Fear of Falling
by TdeAlba
Summary: Complete! I jump on the AU bandwagon. John McBain is sent undercover to Llanview in order to investigate the Santi family where he meets a married Natalie Vega. How does he keep things from falling apart when she identifies him as the father of her baby
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **This is au ('cause everyone else was having so much fun with them and I felt left out). It diverges with our reality sometime in 2003 but takes place sometime in 2004.

**Disclaimers:** Not mine, just my reality.

* * *

John McBain scanned the bar as his brother led him in, instinctually checking for exits and anything overtly suspicious before allowing himself to fully absorb the atmosphere of the place. It was full but not overcrowded, the patrons a mixture of families seated at the tables and twenty to thirty somethings clustered around the bar. Michael directed them towards the bar and ordered a couple of beers.

"Who's the new girl?" the bartender, a pretty redhead asked dryly. "You cheating on Marcie already?" Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place her. She was out of context somehow.

"Very funny," Michael said with a fake laugh, "don't let the long hair fool you. This is my brother John."

"The FBI agent?" she asked, studying John's face more carefully.

"Only brother I've got," Michael said, "John, this is Natalie Vega." He forced himself not to react to her last name as it hit him where he'd seen her before. As he nodded in acknowledgment he tried to recall the contents of her file, but he'd looked through so many in preparation for this assignment he couldn't quite sort her out from the group.

Natalie held her hands up in mock surrender and said, "And whatever crime you're investigating I didn't do it."

"Good to know," he said smiling slightly, "it would seriously hurt your tip if I had to arrest you." She smiled back at him for a second before turning back to her work.

"You know, Natalie grew up in AC too," Michael said as she handed them their beers.

"Really?" John asked trying to sound surprised as the details of her file began to come back to him.

"What brings you to Llanview?" she asked handing them their beers.

"What brought you?" he shot back, leaning slightly forward and propping himself up on the bar with his elbows.

"Family stuff," she said vaguely and he sensed that whatever the details were they weren't all happy ones, "long story." Her eyes locked suddenly with his and he really looked at them for the first time. They were a soft baby blue—veiled somehow as though she were trying to bury some hurt in their depths.

"There's Marcie," Michael said jerking his arm as Natalie's eyes fluttered away. As they wove their way through the crowd Michael asked, "Were you just flirting with Natalie?"

"I don't flirt," he said, "You know that."

"I do," Michael said, "and you should start. But not with Natalie. She's very married. To a guy that's a heck of a lot better looking than you."

Michael led him over to a petite, heavyset redhead, "John, this is Marcie. Marcie, this is my good for nothing brother."

"Nice to meet you," Marcie said shaking his hand with a laugh, "Michael's told me a lot about you."

"Well I hope you didn't believe it all," John said self-consciously.

"Oh it was all good things," Marcie assured him, "well mostly."

"He has nothing but good things to say about you," he told her, "seriously, you should hear the way he goes on and on-"

"In the two times you've called in the last year," Michael said.

"Hey look there's an open table," Marcie said saving John from having to come up with an excuse for not calling more often.

He sat at the table with Michael and Marcie nursing his beer and two more trying to seem interested as Michael talked about patients and Marcie babbled on excitedly about a murder mystery she was writing. He scanned the bar periodically for familiar faces and anything out of the ordinary, but his eyes kept wandering back to Natalie Vega. What was it about her that was bothering him? He knew from experience not to ignore the instincts that were setting off his alarms, but he couldn't figure out what it meant.

"I'd love it if you could read over it," Marcie said to him, drawing his attention back to the table.

"What?" he asked.

"My manuscript," she said, "If you have a chance I mean, I'm sure you're busy. But it's a murder mystery and you've probably worked a lot of them."

"Marcie," Michael interrupted. John knew from the concern on Michael's face that he was worried thoughts of murder cases would bring up memories of Caitlyn.

"Drop it off sometime," John told her casting Michael a reassuring glance, "I'll try to take a look."

He saw a young man with sandy hair burst through the door and strut towards the bar. When he got there he leaned over the counter and said, "Hey there, gorgeous!"

Natalie flushed as she turned to him and said with a grin, "Hey Paul!"

"That her husband?" John asked nodding towards the bar.

Michael laughed. "Hardly. That's just Paul Cramer—general good-for-nothing."

"I'm surprised she puts up with him," Marcie said, "but then again this is Natalie we're talking about."

John looked at her, surprised by the disparaging comment. "I take it you two aren't friends."

"Not really," Marcie said.

"There's been some bad blood between Natalie and Marcie's best friend Jen," Michael explained.

"Ah," John nodded, not really interested in the details. He watched Natalie with this Paul character; the guy was definitely flirting. Natalie seemed a little embarrassed by the attention, but not bothered by it.

"Well I hate to cut the evening short," Michael said putting down an empty beer bottle, "but I have a sixteen hour shift tomorrow. So I'm gonna go settle up."

"No, no," John said motioning for Michael to sit back down, "tonight's on me."

"Really?" Michael asked laughing in surprise.

"Yeah," he said as he killed his last beer, stood up and made his way to the bar.

"Another one?" Natalie asked with a smile, turning away from Paul.

"Nah," he said, "just need to settle the tab for myself and Mikey."

She raised an eyebrow. "You know he's a doctor?"

"Yeah," he said not sure what she was getting at.

"And you're on a government salary," she said, "I'm just saying, he should be buying _your_ beer."

"Yeah well I'm just sucking up to him so I can get him to pay for my next vacation," he said with a smirk.

"Fattening him up for the kill," she said nodding keeping a serious expression on her face a moment longer, "I like that." A smile broke across her face and she laughed. To his surprise he noticed something about her laugh was very appealing. Her eyes met his for a moment and something in his expression made her bristle suddenly. "I'll ring this up," she said walking towards the cash register with his credit card.

* * *

John sat on the hotel bed with the accordion file that had all the folders related to this case in it. He pulled out Natalie's file and spread the contents in front of him on the bed. Now that he'd refreshed his memory he remembered her story—Natalie Vega née Buchanan aka Natalie Balsom. The long lost heiress kidnapped in infancy who had returned to her biological family only a few years ago. There was an annulled marriage from right around that time and a few run ins with the law but nothing serious. A little over a year ago she'd started playing competitive pool and unexpectedly won several tournaments before suddenly dropping out of competition all together. She'd married Cristian Vega, the artist from the wrong side of town, right after that. There didn't seem to have been any family objections despite the class difference.

Flipping through the file he reminded himself how limited the information in these folders was. They wouldn't tell him half as much about her as one carefully worded conversation could.

He doubted she was his Santi connection, but she might know something. She was quick and if she had overheard or seen anything unusual he expected she was the type to take note of it and file it away for future reference. She could also provide introductions to other members of the family who he needed to meet. He made a note in his file indicating when and where he'd met her and decided to stop in at that bar the next afternoon before the dinner crowd arrived in the hopes of finding an opportunity to talk with her more extensively.

Carefully he put the files away before lying back on the bed. He wouldn't sleep. Not much. He never did these days. But sometimes lying there in the dark, avoiding dreams helped him think through the random ends of a case and work them all together.

Across town Natalie stepped out of the bathroom and looked sadly at her bed. Cristian had been asleep when she came in and she had no doubts about how he had worn himself out. He'd stirred briefly when she came in and murmured a hello before rolling over and going back to sleep. This wasn't what she'd expected marriage to turn into, especially not so soon.

The hot shower had eased the backache she always got from working a long shift but done nothing for her aching feet. A sudden surge of resentment towards her husband surged through her; she could have been living comfortably off her family inheritance, but Cristian's pride wouldn't allow it. For some reason though, his pride had no such problem with her pulling double shifts to finance his art career. And he couldn't even be bothered to wake up and welcome her home.

Paul wouldn't ignore her like this. The thought came into her head unbidden and she tried to push it away. Paul wasn't Cristian. But sometimes the attention he gave her could make her feel the way Cristian used to. Hell, Michael's brother joking around with her at Rodi's tonight had brought her closer to feeling that way than Cristian had in months.

A sense of determination came over her; Cristian was still her husband and even if he didn't act like it half the time she wasn't above reminding him. She slipped her robe off her shoulders and climbed into bed next to him. Running a hand slowly over his bare chest she leaned over him and kissed him gently, but insistently. Cristian returned her kiss almost immediately and even before he was awake entirely his hands moved to her back, pulling her body against his.

Late the next morning John wandered into the diner near the hotel which his notes told him was run by Carlotta Vega. Apparently he'd missed the weekday morning breakfast crowd and there were only a few people scattered around the place. He wandered up to the counter to get a cup of coffee and was surprised when the woman behind the counter turned around. It was Natalie. "Well if it isn't Special Agent McBain," she said brightly.

"John," he said, "please."

She pretended to think about this for a minute before saying, "Nah. I gave up calling my customers Johns a long time ago." Then she quickly laughed and said, "Kidding. Guess I really shouldn't joke like that with law enforcement."

He shook his head and smiled. "Most of us have a sense of humor. Kinda necessary on the job sometimes. Speaking of which—you work here too?"

"No," she said, "just helping out. My mother-in-law owns this place. What can I get for you, by the way?"

"Just a coffee," he said.

"Here or to go?" she asked.

He thought about it. Part of him thought he should take the coffee and go back to his notes since Mrs. Vega didn't appear to be here, but talking to Natalie instead could be just as beneficial. "Here," he said.

As she poured the coffee she said, "So… I don't suppose I could get you to tell me why you're _really_ in town?"

"Told you," he said taking the cup, "visiting my brother Mike."

"For how long?" she asked.

"Haven't decided yet."

"And the FBI's that liberal with their leave policy?" she asked. If she hadn't just put him in an awkward position he'd have been impressed. She was clever. She wasn't going to blindly accept anything he told her. He needed a better story.

"Don't say anything to Michael," he said dropping his voice, "it wasn't a voluntary vacation. I… kinda lost it on a suspect a couple weeks ago and wound up getting suspended."

"Sorry," she said seeming to accept the story. She looked like she was about to ask something else though but stopped suddenly looking in the direction of the door. He turned to see a tall Latino guy he recognized from his files as Cristian Vega walking through the door, seemingly in a hurry.

"Hey Baby!" Natalie said in a tone that was more anxious than affectionate.

"Hey," he said, "you heard from Mami?"

"She called a little while ago to say Jamie wasn't any better and she probably wouldn't make it in but that she had someone to cover the lunch shift," Natalie said.

Cristian nodded. "Good. You gonna be okay here? I really need to get down to the studio for a while."

John could tell instantly that something about her husband going to the studio upset her, but Cristian didn't seem to notice. "Yeah," she fumbled, "I'll be fine"

"Good," he said leaning over the counter to kiss her lightly on the cheek before hurrying back out the door.

Natalie watched him go biting her lower lip. For a moment she looked like she was on the verge of tears but she quickly busied herself with wiping down the counter. "That your husband?" John asked.

"Yeah," she said, sounding less than pleased with that fact.

"He seems like a nice guy," he said, feeling like he needed to say something.

Natalie snorted. "Seems that way, doesn't he? You'd never guess he was sleeping with my twin sister."

"He _what_?" he asked certain because of her casual demeanor that this must be some sort of joke he was missing.

She leaned forward with a conspiratorial manner, "Don't say anything though. I'm not supposed to know." He stared at his coffee, unsure how he could possibly respond. As it turned out no response was necessary, she kept talking. "It's not like I shouldn't have expected it. He was with someone else when I met him. When we realized we had feelings for each other. You know what they say—if he cheats with you he'll cheat on you."

"I imagine things like that are a lot easier to believe in the abstract than about someone you actually have feelings for," he said. He'd meant to say 'someone you love' but this couldn't really be love, someone who really loved you couldn't turn their head suddenly to someone else, could they?

"True," Natalie said wistfully. "But really it's Jessica that just kills me. I mean she's my sister. My twin. Shouldn't there be some kind of loyalty there?"

"I would think so," he said.

"You know he's the second guy to pick me over her?" she asked. He didn't respond; it was clearly the type of question she didn't expect answered and he didn't know what to say anyhow.

"The first one was my fault," she continued. "Seth. I told him to pretend he had feelings for her and somewhere along the way he stopped pretending. It's a rotten thing to do to your sister, I know, but I didn't know she was my sister." She paused and looked at him realizing she probably wasn't making much sense. "Long story," she said apologetically, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

He knew, but he couldn't very well tell her that people had a habit of telling him things they didn't mean to. That it was his job to get them to do so and that he was good at it. "Maybe you just needed someone to talk to," he offered. For the first time since he was a rookie he felt a twinge of guilt for lying to her. That was strange.

Natalie flushed. "Well anyway, I'm sure you don't want to hear all this."

"I don't mind," he said giving her a slight smile. "Sometimes it's nice to know I'm not the only one with problems."

"So you beat up a suspect?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed formulating the details of the lie in case she asked, "it was stupid."

"You want stupid?" she asked with a laugh. "I pushed them together. Jess was going through a tough time. Her boyfriend, Cristian's brother, well not Cristian's brother as it turns out… See Antonio found out that his mother was actually his aunt and his real father was this Puerto Rican drug lord named Manuel Santi—I guess maybe you've heard of him?"

He hid his interest, hoping she would continue this line of discussion. "I've heard of him."

"Well Antonio just flipped out and went into this 'I am Manuel Santi Jr. thing,' quit his job, and pushed away everyone who cared about him, including Jessica and she was just destroyed. And she and Cristian have known each other for a long time… They dated in high school. First love kinda thing. God, you'd think I would have seen this coming. But no, I told Cristian he should be there for Jessica. Pushed him to spend more time with her. Then I came home from work early one day… They were asleep, never knew I was there."

John reached foreword and touched her hand. "I'm sorry. That must have been hard."

"We're newlyweds," she said numbly, "we haven't even been married a year. How could he…? In my own bed." Angrily she wiped away a tear. "I always thought if a guy did that to me I'd just leave. No waiting for explanations, no second chances… I mean you must think I'm an idiot."

"No, I don't," he assured her, "these kinda things are complicated. It's never that cut and dry."

Natalie shook her head. She was about to say something else but the door swung open with a chiming of bells and she moved quickly away from him as a woman walked in. "Hey Gina," she called out.

"Carlotta called me," Gina said, "I told her I could cover the lunch shift. I can take over from here if you need to leave."

"Yeah," she said wiping her eyes one more time, "thanks." Hastily taking off her apron while avoiding making eye contact with him Natalie said softly, "Thanks for listening."

"Anytime," he assured her.

"See you around," she called as she hurried out of the diner.

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters… well I could argue that I own Gina, but she's more of an expository device than an actual character.

**Author's note:** You all might hate me for something that happens in this chapter… um… please don't? I promise this is a Jolie story in the end, I swear!

* * *

_From Chapter 1_

Natalie shook her head. She was about to say something else but the door swung open with a chiming of bells and she moved quickly away from him as a woman walked in. "Hey Gina," she called out.

"Carlotta called me," Gina said, "I told her I could cover the lunch shift. I can take over from here if you need to leave."

"Yeah," she said wiping her eyes one more time, "thanks." Hastily taking off her apron while avoiding eye contact with him Natalie said softly, "Thanks for listening."

"Anytime," he assured her.

"See you around," she called as she hurried out of the diner.

**Chapter 2**

John watched her go, barely able to suppress the urge to follow her. He reminded himself that he wasn't here to befriend a lonely young heiress; he was there to solve a case. Besides, he reasoned with himself, if someone in her husband's family was involved with organized crime he was doing her a favor by figuring out who and putting a stop to it.

He noticed the woman who had stepped behind the counter eyeing him curiously. She was a dark-haired, caramel skinned woman who he would have guessed was in her early thirties. "You're not from around here," she said.

"No," he shook his head, "I'm just in town visiting my brother."

"Anyone I know?" she asked.

"Michael McBain," he said, not having any idea whether this woman would know Michael or not.

"The doctor?" she half-asked, half-said, nodding.

"Yeah," he said, "you know most people here in town?" It had been his experience that service professionals often knew more about what was going on in a particular area than most anyone else. They were often in a position to witness most of the goings on in town and yet people didn't bother to pay attention to them, didn't bother to put of a façade in front of them.

"Most of them," she said, "by sight at least. It's a small town—there aren't many places to eat. Especially breakfast or if you want a quick cup of coffee. Most everyone in town winds up walking in this diner sooner or later."

"So you've worked here for a while?" he asked casually.

"Longer than I ever planned on," she said with a laugh. "I went to school with Mrs. Vega's son—she's the one that owns the place. She offered me the job when I needed something. I always planned it would just be for a little while till I settled down and had kids. I've got two of them now but it turns out we still need my income."

"Mrs. Vega's son," he said thoughtfully, "that was his wife who just left?"

"Oh, not him," she explained, "I mean yes, Natalie is married to _one_ of Mrs. Vega's sons… I gotta tell you Carlotta was _not_ happy about that at first. You'd think she would have been thrilled—I mean the girl's a Buchanan. She's loaded. Fine, upstanding family all that. But Carlotta's very traditional, very Catholic and Natalie… well she was a little bit of a wild child when she first came to town."

"Was she?" John asked thinking that based on what he knew that Natalie wasn't the one whose behavior Mrs. Vega should find objectionable.

"Yeah, but she straightened up. And Carlotta came around. But oh yeah, like I was saying I went to school with her older son, Antonio. Except I guess it turns out he's not her son."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I probably shouldn't say anything," she said sounding flustered suddenly. "Carlotta raised him from the time he was a little boy. I mean she's his mother in everyway that counts but I guess it turns out he's actually her brother's child."

"So she's his aunt?" he translated.

"Yeah, I guess," she said, "but no one knew that until this past summer. And when Antonio found out he didn't take it real well."

"Well I'd imagine it's tough finding stuff like that out," he said.

"And that's only half of it," she continued wiping down the counter, "because it turns out his real father was this big drug lord from Puerto Rico. I mean no one even knew Carlotta had a brother and she's such a sweet lady. Complete law abiding citizen, you know? I mean Antonio got in some trouble when he was younger—spent some time in jail-"

"Really?" he asked pretending to be surprised.

"Oh but he was a really good guy," she corrected, "He'd really gotten it together. I mean he was a cop. But when he found out about his father…"

"What?" he prodded, wanting her to continue.

"He just didn't take it well," she said starting to sound uncomfortable, "pushed away his mother, his brother, his fiancée… everyone who cared about him. He lost his job, left his little girl to be raised by her grandparents, hooked up with this tramp Sonia… And poor Carlotta it just broke her heart."

"What about the rest of the family?" he asked, "I'd imagine finding out you had a drug lord in the family would be a shock to all of them."

"I guess so," she said, "but they didn't really react like that. Then, of course, you have to throw Tico into the mix…"

"Who's Tico?" he asked though he was perfectly aware who Tico Santi was.

"Antonio's brother as it turns out," she said, "Agustico Santi. He grew up in Europe, he's nothing like the rest of the family. Has a lot of money, throws it around at every opportunity."

"Sounds like you're not his biggest fan," he said with a smile.

"Oh," she blushed, "I don't really know him. It's just… he comes off as a bit fake to me. And he seems to be-"

Whatever she'd been about to say she cut herself off looking at someone walking in the door. John turned and followed her eyes to see Antonio Vega walking into the diner. He looked different from the picture in his file; his hair was shaved off and there was a harder edge to the set of his jaw. Reminding himself that he had no excuse to recognize the man, he pretended to look at him blankly. "Hi Antonio!" Gina called out.

Antonio didn't seem to notice him but walked directly to the counter. "Gina," he said, "Carlotta called me and said that Jamie was sick but I just went by her place and they aren't there. Do you know where she might have gone?"

"No," Gina said looking somewhat guilty, probably for gossiping about him, "Did you call her?"

"Got her voicemail," he said with a nod.

"Well she might have run out to the drug store," she suggested, "or maybe to the clinic. She did say she was pretty sure it was strep throat and if they're at the clinic or the doctor's office they probably made her turn off her cell phone."

"You're probably right," Antonio said.

"How have you been?" Gina asked with a mixture of pity and nervousness, "I haven't seen you around lately."

"I've been okay," he said sharply, "busy. I'm going to go look for them. If you hear from her tell her to give me a call."

"Speak of the devil," Gina mumbled after he left, "see—he's really a decent guy underneath. All worried about his little girl. He's just convinced that being the son of a drug lord he puts her in danger by being around her."

"Has there been any sign of danger?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Not that I've seen, but I don't really know about those things." The door chimed and a couple walked in and sat at one of the booths. "Excuse me."

"I should run," he said standing up, "nice talking to you though."

"Yeah," she called, "I'll see you around."

* * *

Natalie hastily slipped her top back over her head and picked up her purse. Paul was still asleep. She always made sure to leave before he woke up. Before she had to have the discussion about what they were and what this meant and how she felt. Because all they were were two fools looking for a quick thrill and this didn't mean anything, except that her life was more out of control than it had ever been.

And she didn't feel anything. She never did. Just a brief thrill of physical pleasure and the rush of power that came from knowing a man wanted her that badly. But once it was over she was just numb again. She couldn't even take pleasure in the fact that she was betraying Cristian the same way he was betraying her because deep down she knew he wouldn't care.

Paul stirred and she reminded herself she needed to get out of there quickly. She grabbed her purse and stepped into her shoes before slipping out the door.

* * *

John was walking into the hotel lost in his own thoughts when someone collided with him. He mumbled a "sorry" as he stepped back and was surprised to see that the other person was Natalie. He was about to ask her what she was doing there, absurdly hoping for some unknown reason that she might be looking for him, when he noticed her appearance. Her hair was mussed, her make up was smudged, and the neckline of her blouse was stretched strangely out of shape and ripped slightly. She hugged her arms around herself tightly and her expression was a mixture of hurt and fear. His first instinct was to think that she'd been assaulted.

"Natalie?" he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said sounding somewhat dazed.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" he demanded.

It was only when she flushed crimson that it occurred to him that whatever had happened to her hadn't been against her will. An embarrassed "Oh" was all he managed to murmur. It was none of his business but mentally he began to scan through the men he'd seen around the hotel wondering who she had been with. It didn't take him long to figure it out. "That guy… Paul Cramer?" he asked, unsure why he needed confirmation.

She nodded. He expected her to make a quick escape but instead she stood there, awkwardly silent. "Not the first time," she said softly. "Every time I swear it's the last but then something happens… Cris does something and I get mad… He's at his studio. That's where they meet. He has this little cot there because sometimes he gets really caught up in a painting and just stays there for hours and hours until he's exhausted. I bought it for him. Damn it! I bought him this cot so he could rest without breaking his little creative bubble and he uses it to fuck my sister." A tear slipped from her eye and she wiped it away in annoyance. "You don't want to hear this," she said embarrassed, "I don't know why I keep dumping on you, I don't even know you."

"Maybe you just needed to talk to someone," he offered, "and sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger about certain things. You wanna take a walk or something?"

She shook her head, "All I really want to do right now is take a shower."

"You're welcome to use my shower," he offered, hating the part of himself that reminded him that in her vulnerable state she was likely to divulge any information she might have about her husband's family.

"No thanks," she said hugging herself tighter, "I'd better get out of here before somebody else sees me."

"Okay," he nodded, not able to bring himself to push for information, "I'll see you later I guess."

"Yeah," she said blushing again as she hurried past him.

As he let himself into his room he glanced at his watch. He needed to check in with the field office but he wasn't looking forward to it. He could get them to acknowledge that he was better off working this one on his own but that wouldn't stop them from trying to tell him how to run his investigation. That was the last thing he needed. But if he didn't call and check in they'd start bugging him so he might as well get this over with.

He sat down on the bed and dialed the field office. "What's up, McBain?" Peterson answered.

"Just checking in," he said.

"How's it going?"

"Okay," he said, "settling in."

"You made contact with any of our players yet?"

"I met Cristian Vega briefly this morning," he said, "talked to his wife a few times. Also saw Antonio Vega but didn't get a chance to talk to him." He didn't provide any details of his encounters with Natalie figuring it wasn't particularly relevant.

"Any new leads on who it is taking over Santi's empire?"

"Not yet," he said, "but the wife might be willing to help."

"You haven't told her what you're doing, have you?" Peterson asked tensely.

"Of course not," he said, "but she seems pretty sharp. If she's seen or heard anything she'd remember. Might have pieced some things together."

"But would she be willing to squeal on her husband?"

He hesitated, unsure why he didn't feel entirely comfortable disclosing all the details he'd gleaned about the Vega marriage. "I think there's trouble in Paradise," he said, "She might not feel as much loyalty as you'd expect."

"Well I'll trust your instincts on this," he said, "find out what she knows and get back to me." Peterson hung up without a goodbye. That was how he was; only interested in the business end of things and once that was concluded, he was gone. John ran his hands through his hair—it was never that clean in the field. He could probably convince Natalie to help him infiltrate her husband's family and find out which one of them was trying to fill the power vacuum left by Manuel Santi's death, but she wouldn't be able to leave town like him once the case wrapped. Dysfunctional though it was, her marriage clearly meant a lot to her; if helping him on this case meant the end of her marriage could she live with that? Not to mention just getting involved could put her in physical danger; if she got caught in the crossfire could _he_ live with that?

He flopped back on the bed and told himself that if he could take down a multinational drug empire it was worth the cost. He couldn't make the world fair; he was just trying to make it a little safer.

His phone rang; he expected it to be Peterson with further instructions on the case but saw Michael's name instead on the caller ID. "What's up Mikey?"

"I was just calling to see if you would let your adorable younger brother buy you dinner tonight," he said.

"I thought you had to work," he said.

"I did," Michael explained, "but I laid a guilt trip on one of my colleagues about how I never see my brother and he's here in town to visit me and I don't have any time to spend with him and she agreed to cover the last part of my shift so I should be able to get out of here about seven."

"You didn't have to do that," John said hoping he sounded pleased rather than annoyed with Michael for changing his plans.

"I know," he said cheerfully, "but it'll probably be another five years before I see you again so I figured I might as well make the most of it. You don't have plans, do you?"

"No, of course not," John said.

"Great!" he said, "I'll come home, change and knock on your door."

"See you then," he said as he hung up. John groaned. Just what he needed—more guilt. He hadn't seen Michael in years and the last time he'd seen him he'd been a self-absorbed punk. That's why he'd agreed so readily to use Michael as a cover for his investigation in Llanview. But arriving here he'd found a Michael who had changed completely and genuinely seemed interested in spending time with him. And all he could think was that spending time with Michael would only slow down his investigation.

On the other hand, part of the FBI's logic in assigning him this case was that having a brother in Llanview would make it easier for him to get the real story on the life of the town. Drinks with Michael last night had led inadvertently to his meeting with Natalie who was so far the best angle he'd found for gathering information on the Vega family.

An angle he wouldn't be able to pursue any further tonight since he'd be tied up with Michael. Why did that disappoint him so much? He felt bad for her—she was in a nasty situation which was likely to get worse and when she left the hotel a little while ago she hadn't been in the best of shape. Running his hands through his hair he had to remind himself once more that Natalie was just part of the case and that her personal life didn't concern him.

* * *

Natalie heard her cell phone ring as she was getting out of the shower but didn't move to answer it. She was dripping wet and there was no way she could towel off and get to it before it flipped to voicemail. Besides, there was no one she really wanted to talk to anyway.

The shower had helped a little. The hot water couldn't drive from her memory what she'd done anymore than it could make her forget that day when she'd walked in on Cris and Jessica, but at least she didn't feel quite so grimy. Blotting her damp hair with a towel she walked into the bedroom to check her cell phone and saw that she had a new voicemail from her mother. She switched the phone to speaker mode so she could play the message while she got dressed.

"Hey sweetie it's Mom. Listen I'm not sure if you're working tonight but I thought if you're not maybe you me and Jess could get together for dinner just us girls. I know Jessie's been a little down lately and I think it might help cheer her up. Besides, I never see you anymore. Well anyway, give me a call. Love you."

Taking a deep breath to keep from crying again, Natalie erased the message. So her mother was worried about Jessica. Of course she was. Everyone always worried about poor little Jessica who these terrible things kept happening to. They had no idea. A bitter laugh escaped her mouth as she thought how shocked her mother would be to find out what Jessica was doing to cheer herself up.

She started to formulate an excuse for why she couldn't come. She could tell them she had to work but it would be like her mother to take Jessica to Rodi's so they could say "hello" and if she did she'd discover someone else behind the bar. Then a thought occurred to her—Jessica had no idea that she knew. She thought about sitting opposite her sister, playing the blissful newlywed, the naïve wife who thought her husband loved her as much as she loved him.

Dabbing the corners of her eyes and smiling slyly she dialed her mother's number. "Mom? Hi, it's Natalie. Dinner sounds great! Okay, I'll see you at 7:30 then. Love you too. Bye." She knew Jessica well enough to know sitting across from her tonight would torture her. Any unpleasantness she might feel herself would be well worth it.

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

"We should do this more often," Victoria Davidson said as the waiter walked away with their orders, "I feel like I never see you two."

Natalie laughed lightly and asked, "Don't you two live in the same house?"

"Well that's what I'd like to know," Viki said with a laugh, "I mean Jessie you're never around."

Jessica blushed slightly but said nothing. Natalie narrowed her eyes slightly as she turned to Jessica and asked, "Is work keeping you _that_ busy?"

"Yeah," Jessica said hesitantly.

"Well baby, I do happen to know the owner of the paper," Viki said with a wink, "I'm sure I can get you some time off."

"Oh I know," she stammered, "but I- sometimes I just get caught up with a story and lose track of time."

"I know how that goes," Natalie said without taking her eyes off her sister, "Cristian's the same way, sometimes he gets caught up in a painting and I feel like I don't see him for days."

"Well surely he has to come home to his muse sometime," her mother said patting her hand.

"Oh he does," Natalie said donning a blissful smile, "and when he does it's worth it."

"Aw," Viki said smiling back at her, "I remember what it was like to be a newlywed. Treasure these days sweetheart."

"We do," she said before turning to her sister with a look of concern, "oh Jess, I'm sorry! I shouldn't be going on and on like this in front of you! I know you still miss Antonio."

Jessica looked uneasy at this expression of concern from Natalie. "No, no!" she assured her, "it's fine. I… I'm just glad you're so happy."

"You'll find someone," she assured her smiling more with the knowledge that she was heaping guilt on her than with sisterly affection.

* * *

John tried not to let his discomfort show as he followed his brother into the Palace restaurant. "You know I would have been fine with take out," he said in a low voice.

"Hey!" Michael said, "I _am_ a doctor you know. Let me treat my brother for once. I might not see him for another five years."

"If you insist," John said with a roll of his eyes. Instinctually scanning the room, a flash of red hair caught his eyes. Sure enough, it was Natalie, sitting with two blonde women, one middle aged and one about her age. Why did she seem to be everywhere he went? Natalie saw him too and her eyes widened slightly in surprise before she turned back to her companions without further acknowledgment.

Following his gaze as they settled down at a table Michael said, "That's her mother, Victoria Lord Davidson, and her sister."

"Jessica?" he asked.

"Yeah," Michael said looking at him suspiciously, "how did you know that?"

He shrugged. "Ran into Natalie earlier today at that diner near the hotel. We got to talking."

"About her sister?" Michael asked raising an eyebrow.

"About a lot of things."

"Well in case she forgot to mention it," he said leaning forward slightly, "her sister, unlike Natalie, is single."

"You sure about that?" John asked before he could stop himself. He realized his slip immediately—he had no right or desire to reveal anything he and Natalie had talked about to his brother.

"Why?" Michael asked, "Did Natalie say otherwise?"

"No," he said trying to sound as blasé as possible, "just an impression I got."

"Well she's newly single," Michael offered as a possible explanation, "and probably won't stay that way for long. She's cute, isn't she?"

John gave his brother a sideways look. "Don't."

"What? I can't comment that a girl's hot?"

"You can comment all you want as long as it's okay with Marcie," he told him, "but don't push me in the direction of every semi-good-looking available woman."

"That's not what I-" Michael started to protest before realizing that it wasn't going to work, "okay maybe I was. A little bit. I can't help it Johnny, I just want to see you as happy as I am."

"I'm fine," John said, "and getting set up by my kid brother isn't what's going to make me happy."

The waiter arrived at that point to take their orders, providing John with a welcome escape from any kind of discussion involving his love life or what he knew about Natalie's family.

* * *

"So is Cristian excited about the opening at Lindsay's gallery?" Viki asked Natalie trying to make conversation at the table which had grown awkwardly silent.

"Yeah," Natalie said with another forced smile, "I think so anyway. He's working so hard for it we haven't had much of a chance to talk. I know he's got some pieces he's really proud of." Turning to Jessica she asked, "You spend a lot of time at his studio, have you seen them?"

Jessica blanched and knocked her water goblet with her hand, causing it to splash a little onto the tablecloth. "His studio?" she asked in a panicked tone.

Natalie's smile never wavered. "Yeah, I see your car there a lot when I drive past."

"Oh," Jessica said, "see I…"

"You don't have to feel guilty," she said playfully slapping her sister's arm, "I know exactly what's going on and I don't mind."

"You don't?" Jessica asked looking really confused.

"No, of course not," she said nonchalantly, "I mean you two have been friends for years and you're both hurting after everything that's happened with Antonio. Of course you want to spend time together."

"Right," she said in a shaky voice trying to smile, "Yeah, sometimes it helps talking to him."

"Well I'm glad the two of you can get together," Natalie said delighting in the discomfort on her sister's face, "to talk."

* * *

John's phone rang and glancing at the caller ID he realized it was Peterson. "I have to take this," he said apologetically to Michael as he stood up, "It's the office."

"McBain," he answered as he reached the lobby.

"Anything to report?"

"Not in the last couple hours since I talked with you," John said tersely.

Peterson didn't say anything about his tone, he just launched into the purpose of the call. "One of our informants in your area called—says he has information on Santi operations. He wouldn't talk over the phone, but he agreed to meet with you tonight at 1:00."

"You think he's for real?" John asked as he scribbled down the address Peterson gave him.

"He's been reliable in the past," Peterson said.

"All right," John said, "I'll let you know what he has to say."

"Keep me posted," Peterson said before hanging up.

John closed his phone and turned to rejoin Michael but stopped when he realized Natalie was standing a few feet away from him. "Hey," he said, not knowing what else to say and wondering how much of his conversation she'd heard.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, "I saw you leave and I told them I needed to use the ladies' room."

"Okay," he nodded, not sure where this discussion was leading.

"I wanted to talk to you," she explained.

"About…?"

"Listen," she said taking a deep breath, "what I told you earlier and what you saw… you won't tell anyone about it, right?"

He shook his head. "Not anybody else's business. Not really mine for that matter."

"Thanks," she said sounding relieved, "I just… I don't normally talk to complete strangers like that. I… well thanks."

"No problem," he nodded, "I guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "come in to Rodi's sometime. The least I owe you is a free drink."

"You don't owe me anything," he assured her, "but I never turn down free drinks." Giving her one last reassuring smile he walked past her into the dining room to rejoin his brother.

Natalie watched him go; stalling so that no one would see her walking back in with him. Why _had_ she opened up like that to him? Was it just what he said? That she needed to talk to someone. Someone not involved in anyway with her family or Cris's. With the way things worked in Llanview, she'd have to find a stranger for that. Was that all it was? She shook her head to snap herself back to reality and walked back to join her mother and Jessica.

* * *

Michael looked at him glumly as he sat back down. "You're gonna have to leave, aren't you?"

Affecting a blank look John said, "No. What made you think that?"

"I just assumed with the office calling…," Michael said.

"Oh," John said shaking his head, "no, they just needed to know where a certain file was. No one else could figure out my filing system."

"Let me guess," Michael said with a smile, "you just kinda stuff things wherever they fit."

"Pretty much," John nodded, "but there's a method to it."

"So how long _are_ you here?" Michael asked.

"Couple weeks, probably," he said hoping Michael didn't press for details, "Got a lot of leave saved up and they're insisting I take it. So unless something big comes up I might hang out for a while."

Michael followed John's gaze to Natalie as she sat down beside her sister. "I _did_ tell you she was married, right?"

John looked at his brother. "It's not what you think, Mikey."

"Okay," he said as though he didn't completely buy it, "but I _can_ arrange an introduction to her sister if you're interested."

"Mikey-" John said in a warning tone.

"Kidding," Michael said holding his hands up.

* * *

John made his way down the docs where the informant had promised to meet him. Why did informants always pick places like this to meet? He suspected most of them were in love with the mythos of being an FBI informant and meeting in this kind of place fit the ambiance. For that reason, he tended not to trust them—most of them didn't know nearly as much as they thought they did. But Peterson seemed to think this guy was on the level so there couldn't be any harm in giving him a few minutes.

"You the one from the Philly office?" a blond man in his early twenties asked approaching him.

"You the one who called?" John asked. The man nodded. "Peterson said you had info on the Santis," John said.

"Yeah," the man said pacing back and forth.

"Well…?" John pressed expectantly.

"They got a shipment coming in tomorrow night," he said, "Pier eleven. Around 2:00 am."

"Shipment of what?"

"Petey said you'd have money for me," the man said turning back to him.

John nodded. "And you'll get it as soon as you tell me what you came here to tell me," he said impatiently.

"Sorry," he said fidgeting slightly, "The money's gonna have to be first."

"I give you the money now, you have no motivation to talk," John pointed out.

"You're an FBI agent," he said with a wild hand gesture, "if I don't talk afterwards you can always wrestle me to the ground and take your money back."

Trying not to smile at the young man's persistence, John took out the money and tossed it to him. The man counted it carefully then looked back at him. "Okay, the guy I talked to wasn't real specific, but I gather it's drugs of some kind. Probably coke."

"And why did this guy talk to you?" John asked suspiciously.

"Because he wanted my help selling off the cargo," he said.

"But your moral sensibilities prevented you from getting involved?"

"No," he said with a laugh, "my self-preservation instinct. Look, I'm not a choir boy, but selling drugs is out of even my line of work. Opens up a whole can of worms I'm not interested in trying. It never ends happy for those guys—you either get shot or arrested and I'd like to avoid both."

"So you came right to us?" John asked.

"Hey," the man said as though he were offended, "I gave up a good chunk of change. A lot more than you guys are paying me, so you could be a little grateful."

"I'll be more grateful if you tell me who's running the Santi operation these days," John said.

The man shrugged. "And for the right price I'd tell you. Only problem is, I don't know. All I can tell you is that he calls himself El Tiburon."

"Who'd you talk to?"

"A guy I know who knows a guy," the man explained.

John groaned inwardly; he'd hoped for a minute this would be a major break in the case, but it didn't look that way. He thought back to his conversation with Michael. At this rate he'd be in town quite some time. "Don't guess you're interested in giving me _that_ guy's name?"

He seemed to ponder this for a moment but shook his head. "Sorry. It'd create a little more drama in my life than I'm ready for. Besides he's small time. And not all that bright. You don't need my help to track _him_ down."

John rolled his eyes; he sensed pressuring this guy wouldn't do him any good. "All right," he said, "but you change your mind or you think of anything else you give us a call."

"Will do," he said with a mock salute.

John started to walk away but turned back after a moment and added, "And watch your back. You don't want these guys figuring out you crossed them."

* * *

The next morning he walked into the police station trying to look as casual as possible. He wasn't required to alert the local law enforcement to his presence in town, but he found it tended to encourage cooperation and help avoid a lot of jurisdictional issues down the road. And since the field office was sending in a team to intercept the shipment that night, he wanted to get it out of the way.

"Can I help you sir?" the receptionist asked barely glancing up at him.

"I need to speak with Commissioner Buchanan as soon as possible," he said.

She looked up at him skeptically, "Do you have an appointment?"

In response he pulled out his badge. "Special Agent John McBain, FBI," he said, "It's important."

Nodding gravely she rose from her desk and walked swiftly to the commissioner's office. She returned a moment later with a forced smile and said, "Just a moment."

As she spoke the office door opened from the inside and Natalie stepped out dabbing her eyes as if to wipe away tears. Seeing him she froze. "John?"

"Natalie?" he asked walking towards her, "what happened?"

"Nothing," she said looking confused.

"Then why-?" he started to ask before she cut him off, realizing the source of his confusion.

"Oh you thought-" she said with a smile, "no, I'm just here to see my Uncle."

"Your uncle?" he asked.

"Bo Buchanan, the police commissioner," she explained, "He's my uncle."

Mentally he smacked himself for not knowing such basic information to start with. Fortunately he was saved from further self humiliation by Commissioner Buchanan himself appearing in the doorway. "You two know each other?" he asked looking between the two of them.

"Yeah, he's Michael McBain's brother," Natalie said, "we met at Rodi's. What's going on?"

"Nothing important," Bo said, "I'll talk to you later. Think about what we talked about."

Natalie nodded. "I will," glancing at John again she said, "Nice seeing you again."

As she walked away Bo looked at John suspiciously and said, "Let's talk in my office." John followed him into the office where Bo settled down behind his desk. "Good morning," he said as John sat down across from him.

"Good morning," John echoed.

"So what can I do for the FBI?" he asked.

"Nothing," John assured him with a shake of his head, "I'm just here to let you know I'm in town."

"You're on assignment?" Bo asked.

"Undercover for the Philadelphia Field Office," he nodded, "investigating the Santi Organization."

"Ah," Bo said thinking this over. "And what does my niece have to do with that?"

"Natalie?" he asked, "Nothing. It's just like she said, I ran into her at Rodi's when I was there with my brother. She grew up in my hometown, we got to talking." It wasn't exactly the truth but he didn't think he'd gain much cooperation by admitting he was using the police commissioner's niece as a means of gathering information on her husband's family.

"Good," Bo said in a tone that had a note of warning to it, "Because I'd really hate to see her get involved in anything unpleasant. She's been through a lot already."

"Anyway," John said, "I really just wanted to let you know I was in town and what I was doing."

"I appreciate it," he said, "by the way, Sonia Toledo, she wouldn't happen to be one of yours, would she?"

John shook his head while taking note of the name. The woman at the diner had mentioned someone named Sonia but that was the only recognition the name brought. "Why do you ask?"

"Well we had her in lock up on suspicion of murder," he explained, "of a known Santi operative. Before we even made it through arraignment, word came down the pike that we were to let her go. I figured she might be a fed."

"Not to my knowledge," John said shaking his head again, "but if I find out I'll certainly let you know."

"Well I know you can't promise that," Bo said with a slight smile, "but I appreciate it. And I appreciate you coming in here and identifying yourself, I know you aren't required to."

"I find things tend to work out smoother when we cooperate with local law enforcement," John said, "so I hope I can count on your cooperation."

"I'm not going to make any unconditional guarantees," he said, "but if there's anything you need help with let me know and I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks," John said standing to leave and extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Bo said as he shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," John repeated as he walked from the office. When he was safely in the relative privacy of his car he opened his phone and dialed Peterson. "What's going on?" Peterson asked clearly recognizing John's number on the caller ID.

"Is there another undercover agent working in Llanview right now?" he asked getting right to the matter at hand.

"No," he replied, "why?"

"I just sat down with the local police commissioner, wanted to let him know I was in town, ask for his cooperation-"

"I don't remember telling you to do that," Peterson said irritably.

"I seem to remember you giving me free reign to conduct this investigation as I saw fit," he reminded him.

"Okay," Peterson said, still sounding less than pleased with John's decision, "go ahead."

"He asked me about a woman named Sonia Toledo—apparently they brought her in for questioning regarding the murder of a known Santi operative and word came down pretty quickly to let her go. He wondered if she might be one of ours."

"I've never heard the name," he said, "and I don't know of anyone else working undercover on the Santi case. D.C.'s been totally cooperative on this investigation so I'd think if they had someone there they'd have let me know."

"Could she be DEA?" John suggested.

"Possibly," Peterson said, "I'll ask around, see if I can find out."

"Let me know what you turn up," he said, "While you're at it, could you look to see if you can turn up anything on the name 'El Tiburon'?"

"Why?"

"The guy you had me meet last night mentioned him as the current head of the Santi organization," John explained.

"I'll have someone get on it," Peterson agreed.

"Everything in place for tonight?"

"Yeah," he said, "we'll have a team waiting to intercept that shipment if it does show up."

"Sure you don't need me there?" John asked.

"Too much risk of blowing your cover," Peterson said, "even at best case scenario I don't think this bust tonight is going to bring down the whole Santi organization, we're still going to need you in place."

"Okay," John said, "Let me know what happens."

"Yeah," he said, "keep me posted on what you're up to."

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters just the reality. Several well known lines of dialog in this chapter are stolen directly from the show. I suspect most of you will recognize them.

* * *

John walked into Rodi's about 9:00 that evening. Michael was working the night shift at the hospital but he'd spent part of the afternoon hanging out with him and Marcie. No matter how much of headache this case was turning out to be, at least it was giving him the opportunity to get to know his brother again. A very different Michael than the one he remembered.

As nice as it was to spend time with him though, he was glad to have tonight to himself to work; he hoped sitting alone in the bar he might have better luck gathering information. He saw Natalie behind the bar as soon as he entered but she didn't notice him and he didn't make an effort to get her attention. He didn't know how much luck he'd have at that anyway as he also saw Paul Cramer sitting at the bar. He looked around the restaurant; the family dinner crowd had begun to clear out. A group of young men that looked like the college frat type was gathered around the pool table. A few couples sat at the tables while a group that seemed to be mostly singles crowded around the bar.

He made is way over to the bar where Natalie smiled seeing him. "Hey John, how's it going?"

"All right," he said.

"Michael working tonight?" she asked noticing that he was alone.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm all on my own."

"That's too bad," she said as she handed him a beer, the same type he'd ordered the night before he noted. He told himself that her remembering was no sign of personal interest—she was a bartender it was her job to learn her customer's drinking habits. "On the house," she added, "like I promised."

"Thanks," he said raising the bottle in a mock toast with a hint of a smile.

As she turned to help another customer he looked around the bar again. No one he recognized from all the photos he'd looked through. He wondered if this was a strategic error—this place seemed too respectable to attract the crowd he needed to contact. He'd probably have better luck at a dive somewhere on the edge of town; there had to be somewhere the lowlife's of Llanview liked to frequent.

Just as he had resolved to finish this beer and leave, he saw Natalie tense as she watched someone walk through the door. He turned to see Antonio Vega and a Latina woman he didn't recognize entering the restaurant. The woman settled down at an empty table while Antonio walked up to the bar. Standing right next to John and receiving a steely glare from Natalie he said, "Hey Natalie, how's it going?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," she said.

"Something happen?" he asked his brow furrowing slightly.

"You don't care," Natalie said with a taut smile, "isn't that what you said when you left your family behind? You don't care. About them, Jessica, the LPD…"

"That's not exactly what I said," Antonio said narrowing his eyes, "you don't understand everything going on."

"No _you're_ the one who doesn't understand," she said raising her voice slightly, "Do you have any idea what you did? What happened because you walked out on all of them?"

Regret washed over Antonio's face. "Natalie I-"

"What do you want?" Natalie asked harshly, "To drink. Because the only conversation I'm really willing to have with you right now is the one my boss requires me to. What can I get for you?"

"Whiskey straight," he said, "and a vodka tonic."

Without another word Natalie turned to get his drinks. Antonio glanced over and noticed John for the first time. "You were in the diner yesterday," he said.

John nodded and extended his hand. "John McBain," he said.

"Any relation to that doctor, Michael?" Antonio asked taking his hand firmly.

"My kid brother," John explained.

"You live here now?" Antonio asked studying him carefully.

He shook his head, "Just visiting."

"Antonio Vega," he said with a slight gesture to himself as Natalie set his drinks down heavily on the bar, "see you around."

Natalie stood across from John and watched Antonio return to the woman at the table. "Interesting that he still introduces himself as Antonio Vega," she observed. John blinked at her in surprise—he'd been thinking the exact same thing.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, curious what her thoughts on the matter were.

"Well he's always going on about how he's not really Antonio Vega and that was all a lie and he's really Manuel Santi, Jr. I don't know," she shrugged, "Just interesting that in some way he still sees himself as Antonio."

"Who's the woman with him?" he asked.

"Sonia Toledo," Natalie said with an eye roll, "the skank he left my sister for. Not that I feel too sorry for _her_ anymore, but you know…"

John studied the woman he'd heard mentioned several times hoping he might recognize her from somewhere, but nothing about her seemed familiar. He was still watching her when he heard Natalie inhale sharply. Turning back to her he saw her yet again looking in the direction of the door. "This should be interesting," she mumbled.

He turned back to the door and saw Jessica Buchanan walking in with Tico Santi. Jessica caught sight of Antonio and Sonia and froze. She turned to Tico and said something to him but he shook his head and motioned her in the direction of an available table. John watched as Antonio noticed them and visibly tensed. "Strange thing about Llanview," Natalie said leaning towards him in a conspiratorial manner, "Everyone always shows up at the same places on the same night. If they start swinging punches you're gonna jump in with that FBI training and break it up, right?"

"Let's just hope it won't come to that," he said glancing back at her with a smile.

Jessica settled down at the table while Tico, after briefly conferring with her, made his way to the bar. "Hello Natalie!" he said oozing practiced charm.

"Hi," Natalie said with an obviously fake smile, "what can I get for you?"

"Scotch and a rum and coke," he said.

"Diet coke," she corrected.

Tico clearly didn't like being corrected by her but nodded, conceding that she was correct. "You're right. How did you know?"

"I know my sister," Natalie said sounding a little ominous, "she likes to avoid unnecessary calories." She turned to get the drinks while John took the opportunity to get a closer look at Tico. His first thought was that this guy was too pretty to be a drug lord, but he knew appearances could be deceiving. Natalie returned with his drinks and Tico walked back to his table.

John looked back and forth between the two tables; he was too far to hear anything discussed at either. While he tried to think of a way to move closer to at least one of them, Antonio stood and walked to the table where Tico and Jessica sat. Jessica watched him approach with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. Reaching the table, Antonio said something to Jessica which must have upset Tico because he moved as though he was about to stand up. Jessica leaned forward and placed a calming hand on his arm and said something to him which seemed to relax him slightly. Slowly Jessica stood and let Antonio lead her out of the restaurant.

"Three in one family," Natalie remarked from behind the bar, "You have to admit my sister has skills."

"What do you suppose that's all about?" John asked her.

"My understanding is that most of their conversations these days consist of him trying to explain how his sleeping with Sonia is not evidence that his love for her ever faltered," Natalie said thoughtfully. "And considering the circumstances of tonight, he'll probably throw in a warning that Tico is evil incarnate."

"Is he?" John asked.

She rolled her eyes and was about to respond before a customer interrupted them. As Natalie walked away John turned back to the players in the dining room and was surprised to see Paul Cramer stand and swagger over to the table where Tico was now sitting alone. He flopped down into the chair that Jessica had just vacated and leaned forward over the table, saying something to Tico. Interested as to what they could have to talk about, John began to stroll casually in their direction, careful not to watch them too obviously. Before he could make it over there, however, Tico said loudly enough that John heard, "I told you, not here!" He made an angry motion of his hand and Paul stood up with a drunken smirk on his face and stumbled back to the bar where he immediately demanded a refill.

John slid back to his bar stool, still keeping an eye on the room. A few moments later Jessica marched tearfully back into the bar with Antonio on her heels. "Just leave me alone, Antonio!" she sobbed.

Tico and Sonia both stood up at their reappearance. "Jess, honey, wait!" Antonio called.

"I think she asked you to leave her alone," Tico said stepping between them.

"This has nothing to do with you," Antonio said taking a threatening step towards him.

"You're harassing my date," Tico said, "I think that makes it my business."

Antonio made another movement towards Tico but Sonia put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Antonio, why don't we all just calm down?"

"I don't believe my brother knows how to be calm," Tico said in a mocking tone, "that _was_ why you lost your job with the police, wasn't it?"

Antonio hissed as Sonia said his name once more in a warning tone not unlike one generally used with unruly dogs. "Let's just leave," Jessica said putting a hand on Tico's arm.

"I won't let him chase us away-" Tico began.

"He's not," Jessica said, "I just think we'll have a better time elsewhere."

Tico flashed a smirk at Antonio before turning a tender expression to Jessica and saying, "Whatever will make you happy my dear." Tico strode to the bar and handed Natalie what appeared to be several large bills and said, "I believe this should cover our tab." Natalie laughed softly at how obviously he had overpaid and watched him leave the restaurant with her sister.

Antonio looked ready to charge after them but Sonia physically stopped him and spoke to him sternly in a tone too low for John to overhear. They conferred about whatever it was for several minutes before Antonio, only slightly calmed, marched over to the bar and slammed down the money to cover his tab before leaving with Sonia jogging after him.

Natalie shook her head and smiled at John. "Another peculiarity about Llanview," she said, "No one ever seems to finish their drinks. Unless they wind up finishing off way too many of them. Or dumping them on someone's head."

John lingered at the bar for the next several hours, but nothing else happened that rivaled the excitement of the earlier spectacle. Nothing of relevance to the case either. He kept an eye on Paul Cramer, wondering what possible connection the man could have to Tico Santi. It hadn't even occurred to him that Cramer could be a player in this case; he was just the guy who was sleeping with Natalie. If he was up to something, however, it wasn't apparent by his behavior the rest of the evening. He sat at the bar continuing to drink and occasionally making comments or gestures at Natalie that made her blush.

"Hey Nat, I'm heading out," a man John assumed must have been one of the cooks said as he stepped into the bar area from the back, "you gonna be okay to lock up?"

"Yeah," Natalie assured him, "see you tomorrow."

He walked back into the kitchen; John guessed there must have been another exit through there. He noticed suddenly that he and Paul Cramer were the only patrons left in the bar. Rinsing some of the bar utensils in the sink Natalie looked between the two of them seeming somewhat flustered. It occurred to him that Paul might be lingering on purpose and that the two of them might merely be waiting for him to leave. It surprised him how much this bothered him.

Knowing he had no right to interfere in her personal life, John reached for his wallet, intending to settle his tab and leave them alone. But Natalie caught his hand and stepped directly in front of him so that Paul wouldn't be able to see or hear them talking. "Don't leave me alone with him," she said in an even tone without making eye contact. He nodded and left his wallet in his pocket.

"Hey, I need a refill," Paul slurred from across the bar.

"Last call was half an hour ago," Natalie said as she continued to straighten up.

"But it's me Natalie!" he insisted as though this should change everything. "Besides, who's gonna know?"

"You've had enough, Paul," she said tensely as though she were worried about his reaction.

"What are you my mother?" he asked tottering off his stool. "You don't want to be her, she's crazy."

"How about I call you a cab?" she offered reaching for the phone.

"How about you just take me home when you're done?" he countered.

"Not tonight Paul," she said dialing the phone and softly pleading with him to give up on this. Paul glared at her as she gave instructions to the cab company.

"What? You just gonna go home to your husband?" he slurred at her. Natalie's cheeks turned red but she didn't respond--she just pretended to be absorbed in cleaning up. "It's not like he's gonna be up waiting for you," Paul added. She looked close to tears but continued to ignore him. "I'm always there waiting for you," he continued, "Why don't you just come home with me?"

The phone rang and Natalie breathed a sigh of relief as she answered. "Your cab's here," she told Paul as she hung up.

"It can wait," he said leaning far across the bar towards her.

"Come on Cramer," John said pulling Paul towards the door.

Paul jerked out of his grasp and turned back towards Natalie. "Oh now I get it," he said, "you're just trying to get rid of me so you can be alone with him."

"That's not what this is about, Paul," she said wrapping an arm around his shoulder so she could maneuver him to the door. "You're drunk. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Without warming he grabbed her head and kissed her roughly. Natalie did not kiss him back but didn't struggle against his grip either. When he released her she pulled back and said softly, "Don't."

"What's the matter, baby?" he slurred, "You never minded kissing me before."

She squeezed her eyes shut, flushing red in embarrassment but didn't respond. Feeling compelled to rescue her from what seemed to be an incredibly uncomfortable situation John pulled him by the back of his shirt. "That's enough of that," he said dragging him out of the bar and into the waiting cab. After giving the hotel address to the driver he walked back inside to find Natalie stacking chairs on tables.

"Thanks," she said blushing again.

"No problem," he said walking closer to her, "you want to tell me what that was all about?"

"He was drunk," she said with a shrug as she continued working, "I should have cut him off sooner I guess."

"He a problem when he gets drunk?" he asked.

"You saw," she said pulling a broom out from behind the counter, "he makes a lot of noise but he's generally harmless."

"You asked me to stay," he reminded her, "you didn't want to be alone with him. Were you afraid of him?"

"Not like your thinking," she said her blush deepening. "It's just… he's very persistent. Especially when he's been drinking."

"I saw," he said.

"And I tend to give in," she said, "And I didn't really want to, but if you hadn't been here I probably would have gone home with him tonight."

"Ah," he said, "Well… I guess I'm glad I could help."

"Thanks," she said sweeping under the tables.

"You want me to stay here while you close up?" he asked.

"You don't have to," she said.

"I don't mind," he said, "not like I have anything better to do." He knew if he went home too early he'd just spend the rest of the night obsessing about the shipment that the team was supposed to be intercepting, wondering how it all went and waiting for the phone to ring with news.

"Well I wouldn't mind the company," Natalie said sounding almost shy.

He wandered around the room as she continued cleaning, eventually finding his way to the pool table which was already set up for the next day's customers. "Do you mind?" he asked motioning towards it looking for something to occupy himself with while he waited.

"Go ahead," she said glancing up from her work.

He selected a cue from the wall and removed the triangle holding the balls in place. "So did I hear correctly that your husband's brother used to be a cop?" he asked lining up his first shot.

"Yeah," she said, "back when he was my husband's brother."

"Yeah that's right," he said as though he'd forgotten, "he's really…"

"The son of Manuel Santi," she said in a dramatically exaggerated voice.

"So why did he quit?" he asked as two balls fell in the pockets.

"I don't know that it's entirely accurate to say that he quit," she said, "He um… well I don't want to say that he was a bad cop he just had some problems with his temper and it got him in trouble a couple times. And finally after he found out who he really was, he kinda went off the deep end and Uncle Bo had to give him an ultimatum to straighten out or get out and he chose to turn in his badge."

"But you don't think he's working _with_ the Santis do you?" he asked.

"No," she said thoughtfully, "He says he's trying to bring them down and I think he is. He may not be doing it _legally_ but underneath I don't think he's a criminal."

"And so that guy that was in here with your sister is…"

"Antonio's real brother," she explained, "Tico."

"And what does he do?"

She shrugged putting the broom away, "Other than throw around a lot of cash? Couldn't tell you."

"Antonio didn't seem too happy to see him," he remarked casually.

Natalie chuckled. "No. They don't get along. At all."

"Any particular reason?" he asked lining up another shot and trying not to sound too interested.

"Oh he blames Tico for all sorts of things," she said, "Personally I think it's mostly about him spending so much time with Jessica." She laughed bitterly. "You gotta wonder what he'd do if he found out about Cris."

She stopped cleaning and watched him take the shot. "You play?" he asked turning to her.

"Not anymore," she said almost wistfully. "I used to. Actually played competitively a little bit."

"Why'd you stop?" he asked.

"Cristian," she said. "He didn't like the thought of me supporting him with tournament winnings. Didn't like the attention I got. Particularly from other guys. And after a while I just got tired of the fighting and so I quit." She gazed almost longingly at the table for a moment. "That's a joke isn't it? I gave it up because he didn't want _me_ getting too much attention from other guys. And what does he go and do?"

She looked suddenly as though she were fighting back tears and a big part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, but he suspected she might find sympathy humiliating. Instead he gave her a sideways glance and asked, "You any good?"

She smirked at him, "Never entered a tournament I didn't win."

"Don't guess you're up for a game after working all night," he said.

"Reset the table," she said as she walked to the wall to pick up a cue.

They began to play in silence. She was good, but seemed to be a bit rusty, he thought, trying not to stare too hard every time she bent over. "You know this is only because I'm out of practice," she remarked about the fact that he was winning so far.

"If you say so," he quipped. "It helps that I had to impersonate a pool scout on an undercover op a while back."

"Yeah I guess it would," she said.

"You mind if I give you a few pointers?" he asked as she started to line up her next shot.

"Go ahead," she shrugged.

"You don't mind if I touch you?" he asked moving closer.

"No," she said hoping she didn't sound too eager.

"Okay," he said, "get your eyes on the line with where you want to shoot."

"Okay," she said positioning herself accordingly.

"Don't arch your back," he said running his hand gently over her back until she straightened it.

He positioned himself behind her, their bodies almost flush against each other and placed his hand on her arm, trying to ignore the sensuality of the moment, "Now, I want your eyes to feel connected with your body. I want you to feel it running from your hands all the way up your arms, through your hips, and straight down into your legs."

Natalie smiled to herself, knowing that with his face nestled so close to her neck he was getting a nose full of jasmine perfume. She suspected it would have the same effect on him as it had on every other man she'd used it on in the past. She shifted her hips back slightly into his pelvis.

John tried not to let himself jump just as he tried not to let himself be aroused by her nearness or that intoxicating scent she was wearing. "Do you feel that?" he asked, hoping she understood he was trying to focus on pool.

"Yeah," she said softly enjoying the sensation of his breath on her neck. She finally took the shot but neither of them noticed when the targeted ball went in the intended pocket. Slowly Natalie rose and turned in his grasp so that their faces were inches apart. Cautiously she slid her hand up the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers.

To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Yeah… I'm gonna get beaten for this one, aren't I?

Every part of him screamed that he shouldn't give in to the kiss and yet he couldn't bring himself to resist. Far from it, he let her deepen the kiss. Could he even swear that was entirely her doing?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Natalie knew that she shouldn't do this. She knew far too well the empty sensation she'd feel in the morning, but right now that didn't matter. All that mattered right now was the sensation of his lips against hers and the taste of his tongue as it swirled in her mouth.

Of their own volition John's hands began wandering over her body while Natalie's tangled in his hair. She stepped back under the pressure of his kiss but bumped into the pool table. Lifting from her waist, John boosted her up onto it and continued kissing her urgently. It wasn't until he felt her fingers at the buttons on his shirt that he finally came to his senses and pulled back.

"Natalie," he said breathlessly, "we can't do this."

"Yes, we can," she said pulling him back.

"No," he said stilling her hands.

"John," she said, "you're thinking about this too much."

"Because I have to," he said, "you don't know me."

"I know everything I need to know about you," she assured him.

"No, you don't," he said.

"What do you think I need to know?" she asked, "That you're here on assignment and you've only been talking to me to gather information on the Santis?"

He looked at her in surprised. "How did you-?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out," she said, "I suspected from the start but I wasn't sure till I ran into you at Uncle Bo's office earlier. Did you expect me to believe you just _happened_ to be that interested in the family relations of my deadbeat husband?"

"Look I-"

She put a hand on his mouth to stop him, "I don't care. Hell, I'll help you if there's any way I can."

"I can't ask you to do that," he said taking her hand in his.

"And I'm not asking you for anything beyond tonight," she said pulling him closer again, "Just let tonight happen. I know you want to. Make love to me John." Once again he couldn't bring himself to fight her kiss. Or her feet hooking around the back of his legs, dragging him closer. For a delirious moment he was lost again until a nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him just how badly a woman who got mixed up in one of his cases could get hurt.

He stepped back out of her grasp entirely. "Love wouldn't have anything to do with it," he said looking at the floor.

"What you're gonna become the voice of morality all of a sudden?" she asked incredulous, "What kind of guy turns down no strings attached sex?"

"Natalie you're hurting," he said looking up into two very angry blue eyes, "You're just doing this because you want to get back at Cris."

"If that's what it was about I'd have gone home with Paul," she spat back, "I am doing this because I want you."

He ignored her. "It's not gonna work, Natalie. You'll only wind up feeling worse about yourself. If you want to get back at him, leave him. Don't go around getting mixed up with guys like me and Cramer-"

"You're not like Paul," she said softly. He could hear tears in her voice again and the knowledge that he'd caused them this time made his heart ache, but it didn't weaken his resolve.

"No, I'm not," he agreed, "Because I'm not gonna let you get yourself into something that will ultimately end up hurting you." No matter how much he might enjoy it, he added to himself.

Natalie squeezed her eyes shut looking every bit as humiliated as she had been by Cramer's behavior earlier. "Go," she said quietly.

"Natalie-" he began.

"Just go," she said more emphatically.

"You don't want me to wait till you-"

"I'll be fine," she said finally jumping off the pool table, "I close up by myself all the time. Just get out. Now!"

Wishing there was something he could say to lessen the blow but knowing she was probably better off hating him, he walked out. Turning to glance back as he opened the door he saw her racking the balls up again, getting the pool table ready for tomorrow's patrons.

Natalie waited until she heard the door shut behind him before she let out the breath she'd been holding in a ragged sob. She braced herself against the pool table with both hands, certain she would collapse without it. How did she wind up here? Throwing herself at a guy who obviously wasn't interested. And of course he wasn't; who would be knowing as much about her as he did?

That was it, she told herself; that was where she'd messed up. She shouldn't have let him learn so much about her so fast. All the same… he hadn't fought very hard when she kissed him.

Finding the strength to stand she shook her head—there was no sense telling herself that John McBain had any interest in her not related to his job. And she was through with the humiliation of pursuing a guy who didn't want her. She had her own husband to make her feel unwanted.

She thought about going to Paul. _He_ wouldn't send her away. But at this point in the evening he was probably so wasted he'd never make it to the door to let her in. Forcing herself not to cry as she finished closing up the restaurant, she reminded herself that as much as John McBain knew about her, she knew more about him than he wanted her to. And she'd find a way to turn that to her advantage somehow. She smiled to herself as she locked the door and prepared to go home to her husband.

* * *

At 3:30 am his phone rang; he was nowhere near sleep. Seeing Peterson's name on the caller ID he answered, "How'd it go?"

"Happened just like the kid said it would," he said, "we intercepted 197 pounds of cocaine and took three men from the boat into custody but whoever was there to meet them got away."

"You get a description at least?" John asked.

"Not one that's gonna be much help," he said, "Male, 20-40. Average height, average build. We didn't get enough of a visual to get skin or hair color."

"Okay," John sighed, wearily rubbing his eyes, "What about the three guys you did get? What are they saying?"

"Not much so far," he replied, "and I get the impression it's because they don't know much. Whoever's running the old Santi operations is smart—keeping people pretty isolated within the organization. One of them did have a strong reaction to the name 'El Tiburon' so I'd say they definitely know the name. Whether they have any idea who it refers to I have my doubts."

"Okay," John said, "let me know if they say anything else."

"Of course," Peterson said. He paused before asking, "You've been there a couple days now, met up with most of our suspects. Gut reaction, who do you think it is?"

"Same as I said reading the files," he said, "If the tip that it's a relative of Manuel Santi, Sr. is correct I'd say Tico Santi is the most likely candidate."

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Process of elimination," he said, "The daughter's too young and in no position to be doing this. Antonio Vega doesn't make sense because I doubt anyone in a criminal organization would be that quick to trust someone who was a cop a couple months ago and Cristian Vega doesn't strike me as smart enough to pull this off." He didn't elaborate that if Cristian couldn't manage to hide an affair from his wife it was unlikely he could hide a secret life as a criminal overlord from the FBI.

"Well the case is still open," Peterson reminded him, "so don't cross anyone off just yet."

"I won't," he promised, "You find anything on Sonia Toledo yet?"

"No," Peterson said, "but I'm being stonewalled enough to figure she's someone significant. I'll let you know if I find out anything else."

"Can you do me another favor?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"Have someone run the name Paul Cramer, see what they come up with," he said, "I saw him with Santi today and I can't figure what the legitimate connection between them would be."

"Paul Cramer," Peterson repeated, "that with a 'C' or a 'K'?"

"'C' I think,' he said, "Current place of residence is the Angel Square Hotel here in Llanview. I'm not sure of much else but I can get more details if you need them."

"Is this a rush or can it wait till morning?" he asked wearily.

John rubbed his neck; he forgot sometimes that other people could sleep at night. "Yeah, no big rush."

"Good," he said, "I'll have someone run it first thing. Call you if I need more details."

"Okay boss," John said, "I'll check in with you tomorrow then."

Peterson didn't bother with a goodbye but John heard the click as he hung up. Ending the conversation once business was completed; neat and tidy. John put his phone on the nightstand and leaned back against the pillows wishing he could keep his life that way. He shut his eyes knowing he was unlikely to sleep but hoping he could at least rest.

As soon as his eyes were closed all he could see was Natalie. He could almost feel her lips against his, her hands in his hair. Groaning in frustration he flicked on the TV hoping the noise would drive her from his mind. She was just a source; he reminded himself, just a means of getting information. And he was just another guy who was going to mess up her life.

* * *

The phone woke him up and he bolted upright, wondering when he'd finally drifted off. The clock on the nightstand told him that it was 10:07. When was the last time he'd managed to get six hours of continuous sleep?

"McBain," he murmured drowsily.

"We turned up quite a lot on your Paul Cramer," Peterson said launching right into business.

"Really?" he said trying to sound alert as he reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

"Looks like he came to Llanview because he had family there," Peterson said, "very wealthy family there. His sister Kelly Cramer Buchanan who is recently divorced from the Lieutenant Governor of Pennsylvania as well as his aunt, Dorian Cramer Lord."

"Dorian Lord," he repeated, "that's interesting."

"How so?" Peterson asked.

"She's Manuel Santi Sr.'s ex-wife," he said, "mother of his daughter."

"Hmm," he said processing this information and from the sounds of it not deeming it particularly relevant.

"So Cramer, he doesn't share in the family fortune I take it?" he asked jotting down notes.

"Looks like he had no contact with that side of the family till he came to town. Blue-collar upbringing. He served briefly in the US Armed Forces in Iraq before he was dishonorably discharged on suspicion that some supplies he was in charge of went astray. After that he moved to California where he was investigated on multiple extortion charges none of which made it to trial. He was also connected to a drug smuggling operation on the border but they never gathered enough evidence for a conviction. Looks like he messed up out there--pissed the wrong person off, because he left suddenly and wound up paying hefty sums of cash to his former bosses. Ostensibly he's now working as a medivac pilot for Llanview General but his bank accounts say he's getting income from somewhere else."

"Any idea where?" John asked still scribbling.

"Well he was implicated in an organ trafficking case at the hospital a couple months back, but again not enough evidence for conviction. He said he was just following orders, didn't know what was in the coolers he was transporting."

"Ignorance equals acquittal," John groaned, "Did the payments stop then?"

"Nope," Peterson said, "so he's still got something going on, but I couldn't tell you what."

"Guess I'll have to figure that out," he twirling the pen in his fingers as he thought about it.

"Why the interest in Cramer?" Peterson asked, "I doubt he's the guy you're looking for."

"No, I don't think he is," he said, "but I think he's involved somehow and if I can trace the guys who are working for this Tiburon, I have a means to tracking him down."

"You said you saw him with Tico Santi?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Could you tell what was going on?"

"Cramer sat down at Santi's table," he told him, "Santi didn't look happy about it. I didn't hear the whole conversation but at one point Santi said something about 'not here' and told him to leave."

"I can see what you're thinking," he said, "but it doesn't prove anything. Considering Cramer's past he could simply be blackmailing him."

Without stopping to wonder when they got to a place that blackmailing wasn't really considered an offense he asked, "Blackmailing him about what?"

Peterson laughed harshly, "What rich playboy have you met that _didn't_ have something blackmail worthy in their past?"

"Point taken," John conceded. "Anyway, can you send me a digital copy of all this?"

"We already did," he said, "just wanted to call to make sure you got this as soon as possible."

"Thanks," he said, "let me know if you find anything else."

"You too," he said as he heard the phone on the other end click off. Groaning he lifted himself off of the bed and tried to plan his next move. He looked at the notes he'd taken from his conversation with Peterson and something jumped out at him; Cramer worked at the hospital where Michael worked and had been involved in what must have been a major scandal. Michael was sure to know something about it.

He hated the idea of pumping his own brother for information, but this _was_ why they'd sent him on this assignment. He looked at the clock again; it was a little after 10:30. Michael had worked until 7 am and was almost certainly still asleep. The last thing he wanted to do was wake him up but he couldn't justify sitting around all day waiting for Michael to wake up, either. Finally he resolved that he would stall as long as he could, showering and going over his notes again before going down the hall and knocking on Michael's door.

Around 11:15 he made his way down the hall to Michael's room and knocked on the door. He heard a muffled "Just a second!" from inside and waited. Feeling guilty for waking his brother up especially since it was related to the case he was hiding from him, John waited uneasily. Michael finally opened the door wearing sweats and blinking as though his eyes were still adjusting to the light.

"Johnny?" he said sounding confused.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" John asked feigning ignorance.

"No," Michael said obviously lying, "Come in. What's up?"

"Nothing," he said walking past him into the room. Michael shut the door behind him. "I just came by to see if you were free today."

"Yeah," Michael said rubbing his eyes, "I worked last night so-"

"I _did_ wake you up, didn't I?" John said glancing at the unmade bed.

"Yeah," he admitted, "but it's no big deal. I'd have gotten up soon anyway. Can I get you something? Coffee?"

"I never turn down coffee," John said as Michael stumbled over and turned on the coffee maker.

"So what did you do last night," Michael asked, starting to sound a little more awake.

"Not much," he said, "went to that place Rodi's and had a drink."

"Ah," he nodded sinking down on the bed.

"I kinda had a run in with that guy Paul Cramer that lives in this building," he said, trying to prompt Michael to talk about Paul without revealing why.

"A lot of people have run-ins with Cramer," Michael said, "He's that kind of guy."

"Yeah, what's the story there?" John asked.

"All I can tell you for sure is the guy's a creep," Michael said, "I had some run-ins with him myself a little while back."

"Really?" he said, genuinely surprised for once, "about what?"

"There was this thing at the hospital," Michael said rolling his eyes. "The old chief of staff was selling organs and I kinda figured it out but no one believed me so I decided to do some investigating on my own."

"You did?" the older McBain brother said with a hint of a laugh.

"Yeah," he said ruefully, "and let's just say I plan to leave the detective work to you from now on."

Michael stood up to pour the coffee as John asked, "So what did that have to do with Cramer?"

"Well Cramer works at the hospital. He's a pilot--you know for the… what do you call them?" Michael whirled his hand around in a vague semblance of a helicopter's propeller.

"Choppers?" John supplied.

"Yeah," he said blinking.

"I really should leave and let you go back to sleep," he said amused by his brother's loss of cognitive function but feeling somewhat guilty at being its cause.

"Let me finish the story," Michael protested, "so anyway, Cramer was the one flying these stolen organs around."

"So he was part of this trafficking operation?"

Michael shook his head, "He says he didn't know. All I can tell you is that he was _really_ determined to keep me off Dr. Long's back."

"Did it work?"

"Well Long got busted," Michael said with a drowsy smile.

"And what about Cramer?"

"Not enough evidence, I guess," he said.

"The night I got into town when we saw him at the bar you called him a 'general good-for-nothing' or something, you think he's still involved with something underhanded?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You're on vacation, Johnny. You can stop investigating him."

Damn. He'd hoped Michael was sleep deprived enough not to catch on. "Force of habit," he said dismissively.

"Well anyway," Michael continued, "if he's up to anything I don't know what it is, but I can tell you the guy doesn't like to have to work too hard for his money."

"Interesting," John said slowly as he watched Michael start to drift off then shake himself awake. "You know what? I'm gonna get out of here and let you get back to sleep. Thanks for the coffee."

He'd stood up and made his way to the door before Michael managed to murmur, "Hey, I'll call you later. We should do something tonight."

"Yeah," John said as he walked out of the room, "call me when you wake up."

Making his way back to his room he heard giggling up ahead and rounding the corner nearly ran into Paul and Natalie. Even standing several feet away he could smell the cloud of alcohol around them. "Hey John!" Natalie said with a grin as she nearly collapsed into Paul's arms.

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** Okay… I'm sorry about the Paul stuff. But it has to be there. I swear. Keep the faith (and don't beat me). This chapter might be a touch slow… but I promise things really start picking up in the next two chapter.

* * *

_From Chapter 5_

Making his way back to his room he heard giggling up ahead and rounding the corner nearly ran into Paul and Natalie. Even standing several feet away he could smell the cloud of alcohol around them. "Hey John!" Natalie said with a grin as she nearly collapsed into Paul's arms.

**Chapter 6**

"Natalie," he nodded, "can I talk to you?"

"Sorry," she said running her hands over Cramer's chest, "I'm kinda busy."

"Yeah she's busy," Cramer repeated tightening his grip on her.

"This will only take a second," he said reaching for Natalie's arm and pulling her with him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him.

"I should ask you the same question," he said, "last night you were pretty determined not to go home with this guy."

"That was last night," she said, her speech slightly slurred, "I've changed my mind."

"Uh huh," he said, "and how much did you have to drink before you changed your mind."

"I changed my mind before I had a drop," she insisted, "not that it's any of your business. I decided I want to have fun and since you don't seem to be up to it-"

"Natalie, don't do this," he said, knowing he was being more forceful than he had any right to be but unable to stop himself.

"Look," she said jerking her arm out of his grasp, "you made it abundantly clear last night that you aren't interested, so why don't you just leave me to someone who is?"

"Because I don't think you really know what you're getting into," he said, "This guy's no good."

"Yeah well neither am I," she said giving him one more dirty look before marching back to Paul.

"Natalie!" he called after her. She turned back to him with an icy glare, not saying anything. "That's not true," he told her. He needed her to hear it. He doubted she'd believe it, but he needed to know he'd tried to tell her.

"You didn't seem to think so last night," she said over her shoulder as she and Paul continued down the hall towards his room.

John watched her go helplessly, trying futilely to remind himself that it wasn't his business. He could almost make himself believe that, but he couldn't quite convince himself that it wasn't his _fault_. The night before he'd thought he was helping her; by turning her down he kept her from putting her heart and her life in danger by getting involved with him. What he'd done instead was push her right back into Paul Cramer's arms.

He walked back to his room trying not to think about what was probably happening down the hall. Sitting down on his bed he pulled out his notes and began flipping through them, but found his eyes straying repeatedly to Natalie's file. Suddenly he felt overwhelmed by the urge to hit something. Instead he picked up her file and flung it across the room, but the subsequent fluttering of paper gave him no satisfaction whatsoever.

Real mature, John, he scolded himself as he got up to collect the file and its contents. This was why they always said not to get personally involved with your cases. He'd never had a problem staying detached before except for one time when the man he was hunting made it personal first. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to banish the thought. Natalie wasn't Caitlyn. Natalie wasn't even anything _like_ Caitlyn. So why did his mind keep going there?

This wasn't going to work; he needed to focus on the case and he knew that wasn't likely to happen if he sat here stewing about Natalie and Paul. Finally he decided to take a drive to clear his mind.

He'd been driving for the better part of an hour and he found himself in the midst of the warehouse district near the riverfront. Going over the information he'd gathered in his head he was only peripherally aware of his surroundings until something caught his eye. A man walking down the sidewalk in his direction. The man's pace was hurried and he glanced over his shoulder repeatedly as though he thought he was being followed. John looked at the man's face more carefully—he'd seen it before. It was Ramón Falu, a Santí associate who'd been arrested the year before for drug and assault charges but freed under questionable circumstances. Corruption on the part of the judge was suspected but there was no evidence. Ramón turned down an alley and John pulled his car over and parked on the side of the road to follow him on foot.

He kept his distance, staying as far back as he could without losing him. He didn't want Ramón to know he was there. He saw him pause at the door to a dilapidated warehouse. Glancing around and seemingly assured he was alone, he darted inside. John placed his hand on his gun so that he could draw it in an instant if he needed to as he slowly approached the door. Just as he reached it and pressed his ear against it, listening to see if he could hear what was going on he sensed someone standing behind him. He started to turn and draw his weapon when he heard a woman's voice say, "Freeze!"

He turned his head just enough to see that the woman standing a few feet away with her own gun trained on him was Sonia Toledo. Praying his suspicions about her were correct he said, "John McBain, FBI."

"You have your badge on you?" she asked steadily.

"Inside my jacket, left side," he said knowing she wouldn't let him reach inside to get it himself. Without lowering the gun she stepped forward, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out his badge. Glancing it over and apparently deeming it authentic she stepped back, lowered her gun and handed the badge back to him.

"Sonia Toledo, International Narcotics and Law Enforcement," she said with a frustrated sigh.

So that was it. "INL?" he repeated, "you're a little out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?"

"Not really," she said coldly, "Why are you following Falu?"

"I saw him acting suspicious, I recognized him from his file, so I decided to follow him," he explained, "you?"

"I wasn't following him," she said, "he's in a meeting I set up."

"With who?"

She smiled slightly, "None of your business. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't interfere any further with my investigation."

"I wasn't trying to interfere with your investigation," he countered, "I didn't _know_ about your investigation. Maybe if your agency had been a little more forthcoming-"

"I've been undercover on this for over a year," she said, "the more people that know the higher chance someone will leak it. We couldn't take that risk."

"Well I know about it now," he pointed out, "so what do you say we compare notes, pool our resources? Might help each other out."

"I doubt you could tell me anything I don't already know," she said in a condescending tone.

"So you're in the habit of turning down potential leads because you think you know everything already?" he asked.

He could tell from her expression that his words resonated deeper than she let on. "I'll think about it," she said irritably, "right now I need you to leave before you mess this up any further. So unless you want me to contact your superiors-"

"You want my number for when you're ready to call?" he asked.

"I'll find you if I need to," she said. "Now leave."

"Fine," he said starting to walk away, "but this will go a lot faster if we work together rather than getting all defensive over territory."

She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything more as he made his way back to his car. He dialed Peterson as soon as he shut the car door. "What's up?" the voice on the other end asked brusquely.

"I just ran into Sonia Toledo," he said, "turns out she's INL."

"INL?" Peterson repeated in surprise, "She's a bit out of her jurisdiction, isn't she?"

"That's exactly what I said," he said, "I thought they were just a bunch of bureaucrats who mostly worked outside of US borders, but I don't know. She says she's been working undercover for a while now. Wasn't exactly eager to compare notes."

"Of course not," Peterson groaned.

"Any chance that now that we know who she's working for you can talk to some people, maybe get me a little cooperation?"

"Maybe," he said, "I'll make some calls and get back to you."

"I appreciate it," he said.

He drove the rest of the way back to the hotel. He walked up his room and began laying out his notes and files in front of him trying to visualize connections between the bits and pieces of information he'd gathered. Ordinarily he'd start tacking things to the wall but in this case there was too high a probability that someone could come in and see them and figure out he was in town on business rather than pleasure.

Sonia Toledo was clearly aligned with Antonio Vega; he moved Vega's picture beside the scrap of paper he'd written Sonia's name on. Assuming she really was an undercover INL agent, and he didn't see a reason to question it as yet, that either meant she was working with Vega in some capacity or she was working Vega, trying to get information out of him. He massaged his temples; this case was becoming a headache in more ways than he'd imagined.

* * *

Natalie closed the door to her house behind her and sunk down to the floor, her throbbing head in her hands. The problem with getting drunk was that eventually the buzz wore off and you were left feeling dehydrated and lethargic. It occurred to her that she was starting to take after Roxy; who else ended up hung over in the middle of the day?

"Hello?" she called to the house but there was no reply. Cris wasn't home. He probably hadn't even noticed she was gone. Part of her wanted to cry but she couldn't even find the strength to summon the tears. Instead she pulled out her cell phone and dialed the only person she could talk to at this point.

"Hey, it's me," she said in a hoarse voice, "no I'm okay, I just… I need to talk to you. Please. You're the only one I can talk to. Yeah. Yeah, I can wait until then. Okay, I'll see you there. Thanks."

* * *

John was still lost in his notes and thoughts several hours later when someone knocked on the door. "Just a minute," he said scrambling to put his notes away without getting them hopelessly out of order. Before he could the door opened and Michael stuck his head in.

"Michael?" John said in surprise still fumbling with the papers, "I thought I locked that."

"You did," he said with a grin, "the locks in this place don't really work. If you jiggle the knob just right it comes open."

"Good to know," John groaned.

"What's all that?" Michael asked looking at the papers curiously as John pushed them into his file box.

"Oh, just some stuff for a case," he said dismissively, hoping Michael was far enough away not to recognize any of the photos or names on the files.

Michael shook his head. "Same old Johnny, working right through vacation."

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, "I guess I am. Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"Well I was half asleep when we talked earlier but I do seem to remember us agreeing to go out tonight."

"Right," John said looking at his watch, "I guess time just got away from me. Didn't realize it was that late."

"Yeah well I talked to Marcie and she wants to meet up at Ultraviolet which is this club it- well to be honest the crowd's probably a little bit young for you so if you'd rather go somewhere else-"

John held up his hand, "It's fine Mike. Just give me a minute to get myself together."

* * *

As they walked into the club John's first thought was that Michael was right—this wasn't his kind of place. But after waking Michael up to pump him for information the least he owed him was letting him and Marcie pick where they went. "You sure you're okay with this place?" Michael said over the music, "I'm sure Marcie wouldn't mind going somewhere else."

"Seriously Michael," he said, "I'm fine. Unless you want to leave." Michael seemed uncomfortable, antsy and he couldn't figure out why.

Michael did answer as they made their way over to Marcie who was standing at a table with a skinny blonde. "Hey there sweetie," Michael said greeting her with a quick kiss.

"Hey yourself," she smiled before turning to John. "Hi John!"

"Hey," John nodded.

Marcie motioned to the blonde. "Jen this is Michael's brother John, John this is my best friend Jen Rappaport."

The girl smiled self-consciously at John and it suddenly hit him what was going on—he was being set up. A wave of irritation swept through him and he turned to Michael who gave him a nervous smile. Well that explained why Michael had been acting uneasy, he had to have known how annoyed he'd be. After narrowing his eyes at his brother he turned to Jen and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," she said shaking his hand in a fluttery movement.

"John works for the FBI," Marcie said to Jen trying to get conversation started.

"You told me," Jen reminded her with a slight roll of her eyes.

"Did I?" Marcie said as Jen let out a slight groan looking at something across the club. "What?" Marcie asked.

"I didn't realize _they_ were here," she said sullenly. John turned in the direction she was looking and saw Natalie talking with a man whose back was turned towards them. For a second he thought it was Cramer but he realized the hair was too light and the posture wasn't quite the same. He wanted to groan himself; why was she everywhere he went? At least the club was crowded; there was hope he could avoid her for the evening. As much as he didn't like being unwillingly set up by his brother he didn't want to ruin Michael's night with the scene that could potentially arise between him and Natalie.

He wondered if Natalie had been who Jen was referencing and remembered Michael saying that Marcie's best friend had some sort of history with Natalie. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" Marcie said looking at Jen anxiously as though she was about to fall apart.

"No," she said, "I'm not going to let either one of them chase me away."

"Tell you what," Michael said jumping in and trying to lighten the mood, "how about Johnny and I go get us some drinks?"

"That would be great!" Marcie said a little too enthusiastically.

"Usual for you?" he asked Marcie who nodded, "and what can we get for you Jen?"

"Red bull and vodka," she replied still looking irritably towards Natalie and the guy she was with.

As soon as the McBain brothers were out of earshot Michael looked at his brother and said, "Okay, first of all, I'm sorry-"

"Oh you're going to be," John assured him.

"It was Marcie's idea," he protested, "I told her it was a bad one-"

"But you went along with it anyway?" he pointed out.

"No," he insisted as they wove their way to the bar, "I thought I'd talked her out of it. I didn't know she was going to show up with Jen."

"So what do we do now?" John asked.

Michael gave him a desperate look. "Can't you just go along with it for the night? She's a nice girl and she's hot, right?"

"Mike-" John groaned.

"Would it kill you to have a good time for one night?"

"My idea of a good time is _not_ being set up by my kid brother's girlfriend with a girl what? Half my age?"

"You're exaggerating," Michael said as they reached the bar and gave the bartender their orders.

John was about to argue the point further when someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around to look into Natalie's flashing eyes. "What? Are you following me now?" she demanded.

"I'm not following you," he told her and tried to turn back to the bar but she yanked on his arm to stop him.

"Oh, I see," she said, "you just _happened_ to show up where I was. Again."

"I didn't know you would be here," he told her, "I'm just out for a drink with my brother."

"Hi Natalie," Michael said with a slight wave shifting so that he was visible behind John.

Seeing Michael, Natalie's expression softened slightly as though she believed him but it didn't stop her from being angry. "I'm glad you're here though," John said wishing Michael wasn't standing beside him, "I really need to talk to you about what I was saying earlier."

"All you are is talk," she said glaring at him, "and I'm done with that."

John tried to protest again but that's when Jen suddenly appeared at his side and slipped her arm around his neck. "There you are!" she purred, "what's taking so long?"

John could see the anger in Natalie's eyes intensifying into a dark furor. "You're here with _her_?" she asked.

Before he could speak Jen turned to her with feigned surprise and said, "Oh hi, Natalie. Where's Cristian?"

Natalie shook her head and clenched her fists. "That's none of your business. Cristian hasn't been your business for a long time."

John was actually afraid he was going to have to physically intervene between these two to keep them from cat fighting, but before things escalated further the guy who Natalie had been talking to earlier inserted himself between them. "Hey Nattie!" he said energetically, "why don't we-" He stopped suddenly staring at John and in that moment John realized he was the informant who had tipped him off about the drug shipment. Natalie noticed the strange looks the two of them were giving each other as they tried to figure out how to play this off.

Seemingly oblivious, Jen rolled her eyes and said, "What do you want Rex?"

"Well I was hoping to keep the two of you from starting another fight in my club for starters," he said.

"Yeah I don't think any of us want that to happen," Michael said intervening as he thrust drinks at John and Jen, "so we'll just go back to our table and-"

"That sounds _great_," Jen said still glaring at Natalie.

As they started to walk away Natalie called after them, "Hey Jen! This one has morals. Good luck with that."

To be continued.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** Now none of you were seriously worried about Jen and John, were you? Thanks for your patience with this story so far—I might as well warn you it's gonna be a long one. What I had outlined as the end of chapter 4 is now the end of Chapter 8 so… Hope that's not too much of a problem. I'm not thrilled with how this chapter came out, but hopefully you'll enjoy.

I can see from the stats that people are reading this one, but I'd absolutely love it if some of you would drop me a review or two. Even if it's to say "This story stinks and I only read for the same perverse pleasure people get watching car crashes." It's always nice to know what people think.

* * *

"Okay, what was that?" Rex asked as the others walked away.

"Jen showing off what a slut she was?" Natalie offered.

He narrowed his eyes at her and said, "I mean who was that guy?

"You tell me," She said, "I saw the look on your faces, you two recognized each other."

"I've seen him before," he admitted, "I ran into him the other night. It's kind of a long story. But I don't even know his name."

"John McBain," she said, "Michael's brother. He's come in to Rodi's a couple times."

"And what? He's a lousy tipper?" Rex asked, "'Cause I thought you were going to take his head off for a minute there."

"No," she said with a sigh, "he just… it's a long story."

"He what you needed to talk about?" he asked leaning forward a little bit.

"No," she said, "Well, sort of."

John tried to pretend he was paying attention to the conversation at the table but found it really didn't interest him at all. Part of him wanted to call the field office immediately and find out what they knew about this informant. He hadn't really given the guy a second thought after meeting with him but now seeing him with Natalie…Anyone in a position to know when a major crime syndicate was moving a shipment of coke was probably not someone Natalie needed to be involved with, particularly with everything else going on in her life. But telling her would probably only make her more determined to hang out with this guy.

He kept an eye on them as they moved to a corner of the club. They seemed to be talking about something serious and Natalie seemed upset. When she looked as though she were about to burst into tears the guy put his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Wondering what the nature of their relationship was, he felt surprisingly angry all of a sudden and that's when he realized everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly.

"Well?" Marcie prompted, "What do you think?"

Not having a clue what she was asking him about he decided not to try to fake his way out of this one. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm kind of out of it."

"Marcie was just telling you that Jen did some modeling a while back," Michael explained.

"And she should get back into it, right?" Marcie said, "I mean doesn't she look like a model?"

"He doesn't care," Jen said.

Marcie was starting to look flustered, "I'm sure he-"

"He wouldn't even remember I was here if you didn't keep reminding him," she added.

"I'm sorry," John said, "it's really not you, I just-"

"Oh I know it's not me," she said, "you're just interested in someone else. Trust me, _that's_ been clear all night." She gathered her purse and preparing to leave.

"Jen-" Marcie began.

"Forget it!" she said raising her voice a little bit, "I don't need this. I've had enough of being with guys who can't stop staring at Natalie." As she stormed off followed immediately by a near frantic Marcie, Michael turned an annoyed look to his brother.

"What?" John asked.

"What _is_ the deal with you and Natalie?" he asked. John started to protest but Michael continued, "Jen's right. You haven't taken your eyes off her all night. And what was she yelling at you about?"

"Long story. I tried to help her out with something and… I'm worried about her," he admitted, "I told you, I talked to her for a while the other day. She's kind of in a bad situation."

Michael shook his head in disbelief. "Don't worry about Natalie. She knows how to take care of herself. And she has an absurdly wealthy family and a husband to help her if she needs it."

"Who's that guy she's with?" he asked.

Michael turned to look. "Rex Balsom. He runs the place. Also happens to be Jen's ex-husband. And he kinda dated Shannon when she was in town."

"Really?" John said processing this and trying to figure out how that would put this guy in a position to know about Santi drug shipments and what his connection to Natalie was.

"He also slept with Jen's mom as I understand it," Michael added, "real winner. Occasional partner in mischief with your pal Cramer."

"Interesting," John said, trying not to seem too wrapped up in his head where he was desperately trying to piece things together.

Michael's phone rang and he looked at it with a hint of fear. "It's Marcie," he said, "I hope you're happy, because I'm about to get reamed over your behavior tonight."

John shrugged, "Remind her it was her idea."

"So hard to figure out why you're single," he said rolling his eyes, "I'm gonna take this outside."

As Michael walked away, John noticed that Balsom had broken away from Natalie and was having a conversation with one of the bouncers. He made his way over to them and whatever Balsom had been saying he stopped short seeing John approach. "We need to talk," John said seriously.

Balsom looked furtively around and pushed John out a nearby side door into an alley. "Not in front of people," he hissed, "what? Are you trying to get me killed?"

"No one here knows who I am," he assured him, "But why don't you tell me who you're afraid of getting killed by ,and I can make sure that doesn't happen?"

"No thanks," he said trying to push past him back towards the club.

John stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Who told you about the shipment?"

"A guy," he said turning away.

"He have a name?"

"Not one I'm going to share with you," Balsom said fidgeting.

John looked him up and down; he was nervous. This guy seemed to understand that getting involved with the Santis would put him way in over his head, and John respected him for trying to stay out of it. All the same, he couldn't just let him go when he was one of the best potential sources he'd found. "I heard you've worked with Paul Cramer in the past," he said, "was he the one who tried to get you in on the drug shipment?"

"How did you hear that?" he asked looking slightly panicked.

John smiled noticing that he hadn't denied it. "You said the other night that if you told me who your contact was it could cause drama in your personal life. Just what did that mean?"

"Nothing," he stammered.

"Because I can start looking into your personal life-"

"Look I'm not the criminal here!" Balsom said with a wild hand gesture. "If you want to go after Cramer fine. I really don't think it'll be that hard. Just leave me out of it."

"So Cramer _was_ the guy you were talking about?" John asked knowing he had his answer.

"No comment."

"You know, I saw you in there with Natalie Vega," he said, "she seemed pretty upset—that wouldn't have anything to do with the personal drama you were worried about, would it?"

Balsom turned to him suddenly and said fiercely, "Hey! Leave Nattie out of this! She's got enough going on without you-"

"Getting in the face of a guy for talking to me?" They both turned at the sound of Natalie's voice to see her standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest.

"Okay, someone tell me what's going on!" Balsom demanded.

"Go inside Rex," Natalie said.

"Not until someone tells me what's going on," he said firmly.

"I'd like to know that myself," John said, "is this some kind of self-destructive thing? Getting involved with people like Cramer and this guy?"

"First of all," she said walking closer to them, "Rex isn't like Paul."

"That's for sure," Rex agreed. A look of concern suddenly washed over his face, "Wait a minute—he doesn't think that you and me are… like you and Paul?"

"Probably," Natalie said without taking her eyes off John, "he has a pretty low opinion of me."

"Ew! Well could you please tell him I'm your brother before word gets around that I'm even more of a sicko than I actually am?" he asked.

John could have smacked himself for sloppiness. Balsom. He should have recognized the name from her file; it was the name Natalie used before coming to Llanview. "He's your brother?" he repeated.

"That's right," she said with a smile, "not that it's any of your damn business. Rex, could you give us a minute _please_?"

Rex seemed disappointed to be excluded from whatever was about to happen, but he finally yielded. "I'll be right inside," he said as he walked to the door.

Turning back to John she said, "Lose your date?"

"Yeah she took off," he said, "wasn't really my date anyway, I mean my brother's girlfriend set us up. I didn't know-"

"You don't have to explain," she said, "anymore than I should have to explain my personal life to you. Although, for the record, you're better off. She's been married to two of my brothers and cheated on them with each other, so I'm not sure she'd mix with a fine, upstanding guy like yourself."

"Thanks for the heads up," he said.

"She tell you why she hates me?" she asked.

"We didn't really get to talk that much."

Natalie laughed softly. "You remember I told you Cris was with somebody when we got together?" she asked.

"That was her?"

"Yep," she said bitterly, "I guess I should have just let her have him." She looked up at him suddenly and shook her head. "No. I'm done with that. I'm not talking to you anymore about my personal life."

"Okay," he said, "but Natalie, me warning you about Cramer has nothing to do with your personal life. I'm serious when I tell you I think the guy's bad news. He's got one heck of a rap sheet and I-"

"So you're just working the case," she said moving in closer, "nothing to do with my personal life or what almost happened last night."

He shrugged trying to show that her proximity didn't rattle him at all even though his pulse had picked up a little. "I just thought you might like to know that you were sleeping with a criminal."

She smiled. "You gave up the right to any input in who I sleep with when you decided you didn't want it to be you."

"Natalie," he said staring back into her eyes which were daring him to flinch, "I'm speaking to you as an FBI agent-"

She cut off his statement by dragging his lips down to her own and kissing him. Just like the night before his brain seemed unable to control his body and his arms of their own free will circled around her back and pulled her body against his. He never knew how much time passed while he allowed himself to drink her in. How did she do this to him? He told himself that he didn't know her, that she was just part of an investigation, that she was a married woman, and none of that managed to stop his tongue from exploring the soft warmth of her mouth.

When he finally stumbled back out of her grasp she was still smirking. "Maybe you should just start _acting_ like an FBI agent. Why don't you go arrest someone or something and leave me alone?"

He nodded and smirked back at her. "You know what? That's not such a bad idea."

Natalie watched him walk away slightly unsettled by his parting words. A moment ago she had been in complete control of the situation, but she'd given him some sort of idea and she had no idea what it was. Taking a deep breath and straightening her top she walked back into the club.

Rex intercepted her the moment she passed through the doors. "All right spill Nattie. I want details now! Who's that guy and what's going on between the two of you?"

"I told you who he was," she said with a scowl, "and all that's going on between us is he's driving me crazy."

"So crazy you kissed him?" Rex asked.

"You were spying on us?" Natalie asked, angry though not honestly surprised.

"There's a security camera in the alley," he said, "you told me to leave, you never said I couldn't watch."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I was just trying to throw him off guard. Get him to leave me alone."

"Okay but sis, that wasn't just a kiss," he said putting an arm around her shoulder, "that was a 'I'm-checking-to-see-if-you-had-your-tonsils-out-as-a-kid' and 'Oh-look-you-still-have-your-appendix!' kiss."

"It was nothing, Rex," she insisted, "I'm sure he'd tell you the same thing."

* * *

John was waiting outside of Commissioner Buchanan's office when he arrived hat morning. "Agent McBain?" Bo said with a nod, "Can I help you with something?"

"Can we speak in your office?" he asked.

"Sure," he replied opening the door and ushering him inside.

Once the door was closed John said, "I need you to bring in a guy named Paul Cramer."

Bo looked slightly surprised by his directness. "I assume you're going to give me a reason."

John nodded. "We have reason to believe he was connected to that drug shipment we intercepted the other night. I'm also pretty certain he's connected to the Santi's, but I can't prove it yet."

"You're hoping if we bring him in for questioning he'll let something slip?"

"That's what I'm hoping."

"So why not bring him in yourself?" he asked.

"If I bring him in I out myself as an undercover agent," he explained, "and I risk exposing one of my informants."

"Understood," Bo said, "You have evidence?"

John smiled. "Enough to bring him in for questioning at the very least."

A few hours later he was in his room when there was a pounding on his door. He looked out the peephole to see a very agitated Natalie pacing in front of his door before banging on it again. He opened the door slowly. "Natalie?" he said, "what are you doing here?"

"You did this, didn't you?" she said marching past him into his room.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said although he had a pretty good idea.

"Paul just called me," she said pacing back and forth, "at home, by the way. With my husband standing right over my shoulder, but that's beside the point. Apparently he's been arrested."

"I didn't arrest him," he said.

"Oh I know," she said, "You got my Uncle Bo to do your dirty work. But don't think for a minute I'm going to believe you didn't have something to do with it."

"I don't really care what you believe," he said, "but here's a thought—did it occur to you that maybe your boy got arrested because he actually _is_ a criminal?"

"Here's a thought," she said closing the space between them so that her breasts brushed his chest, "having your tongue in my mouth a couple times doesn't give you the right to run my life."

He stepped back; standing that close to her was starting to make his head spin again. A look of triumph washed over her face—she knew what she could do to him and that didn't bode well. "I'm not trying to run your life," he said.

"Good," she said backing towards the door, "then stay out of it!" She slammed the door behind her as she left. He took a deep breath feeling a little light headed for some reason. Going after her would only make her more angry and had too much potential to get him in trouble; he seemed to have trouble controlling himself around her. He just had to hope he hadn't made her angry enough to tell anyone what she knew about him.

He thought about calling the LPD and finding out what was going on with Cramer and as soon as the thought occurred to him his cell rang. Peterson's number, not a local one, flashed on the caller ID. "McBain," he said flipping the phone open.

"Hey, I have bad news," Peterson said.

John ran his fingers through his hair. "Great. What?" he asked.

"We need you back here ASAP."

"You're pulling me off the case?"

"No," he said, "should just be a couple days. It's the Petrovili case. Trial got moved up to Friday and the DA says there's no way he can make the case without your testimony. He needs you here before then to go over some things."

"Okay," John said with a sigh, "Tell him I'll be in tonight."

"Sorry about this. Hope it doesn't mess up this case too much."

"No," he said looking at the door that Natalie had just slammed, "It might actually be a good idea for me to get out of here for a few days."

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Sorry about the delay in updating this one. Thanks to Aud1 for reminding me I needed to update. Feedback is always appreciated—sometimes it's nice to know someone's out there reading.

* * *

John was fighting with the zipper on his briefcase when Peterson approached him. "So you're all ready to head back?"

"Yeah," he said.

"You think you're getting somewhere on this one?"

"Well I was," he said slinging the briefcase onto his shoulder, "hopefully my absence hasn't set things back too much." John was more than a little frustrated; after being moved forward the trial had then been delayed because of a problem with one of the jurors and then dragged on much longer than expected. It had been two weeks since he left Llanview and he suspected any leads he had been starting to gather were now cold as a corpse.

"Just come up with a plausible explanation for your absence," Peterson said as though John needed to be reminded of standard operating procedure.

"I will."

"I talked to a college buddy at INL. He's not in a position to help me much on the Toledo situation, but he's going to talk to those who can. Hopefully within the next couple days we'll be able to work out some kind of info sharing deal with them."

"Let me know when you hear anything," John said knowing better than to get his hopes up.

"This investigation's moving kind of slow," Peterson said pointedly.

John rolled his eyes before looking up at him and saying, "Well having to leave town right when I started to make progress didn't help."

Peterson looked at him thoughtfully. "So… you said at the start you thought you could get information from Cristian Vega's wife, you ever get anywhere with that?"

John groaned inwardly; the last thing he wanted to do was explain to his boss exactly how far he'd gotten with Cristian Vega's wife. "Yeah, I'm kind of rethinking that angle," he said.

"You don't think she'll help?" he pressed.

"I don't want to put her in that position," he said, "asking her to spy on her husband's family—it just doesn't sit right."

"You said there was trouble there already," Peterson reminded him.

"Yeah but… she's vulnerable, it wouldn't be hard for the Santi's to trace a tip back to her and we can't do anything to protect her without making it real obvious who we are and that she helped us out," he said, "I'd rather not endanger a civilian like that."

"And how many civilians are in danger every day from the Santi organization?" he asked. When John didn't respond he added, "You can't save them all, you know."

The last thing John needed was to be reminded of that. He also knew that it didn't help to know how many lives you'd saved when you'd failed to save the ones that mattered most. Images of his father's shrouded body on the gurney and Caitlyn, her nightgown splattered in blood, shot though his mind. He clinched his fists to control the anger Peterson's words had unintentionally provoked and asked quietly, "So what? We don't even try?"

Peterson shook his head. "Look, handle this however you see fit, but we will need results."

"You'll get them," John said with a curt nod as he walked out of the office.

* * *

The first place he stopped in Llanview was the LPD; he hadn't heard anything from them about Paul Cramer and he was eager to find out if he'd divulged anything while being questioned. The receptionist merely nodded at him this time when he asked for the Commissioner and motioned him towards his office. Commissioner Buchanan was on the phone but stopped short when he saw John walk in. "Hey, can I call you back? Something just came up. Okay thanks. I'll talk to you later."

Hanging up the phone he looked up at John with a hint of annoyance. "I wondered where you'd gotten to. You march in here and demand I arrest someone and then you disappear for two weeks-"

"I got called back to Philly on a case," he explained. "How'd things go with Cramer?"

"We had to let him go," he said, "We managed to hold him overnight but that's all."

"What?"

Bo shrugged. "Not enough evidence. Even with what your office sent over. He came up with this high dollar attorney-"

"Wait a minute," John interjected, "where did Cramer come up with the cash for an expensive attorney?"

"I don't think he did," he said.

"You think someone else was paying for it?"

"Cramer was just as surprised as we were when this lawyer showed up," Bo said.

"Any idea who was footing the bill?" John asked running his hand anxiously through his hair. He knew Cramer had called Natalie from the station and he hoped to God the creep hadn't somehow talked her into paying his legal bills.

"Not sure," he said, "Cramer's basically a drifter but he's managed to connect himself to a lot of wealthy people here in town. His sister Kelly, her ex-husband who happens to be the Lieutenant Governor of Pennsylvania, not to mention my nephew-"

"He that close to his sister?" John asked.

"Not exactly," Bo said, "I suspect its more like he knows stuff about her she'd rather the rest of the world not know."

"Ah," John said, "any idea what?"

"No," he said, "and I don't have any idea who hired the lawyer."

"He say anything at all about the Santis before you let him go?"

"Said he didn't even know who we were talking about, said he didn't know anything about any drug shipment either."

"Damn," John said.

"Well look at it this way," Bo suggested, "maybe out in the open he'll lead you to something. I've had someone trailing him and we've got nothing so far but-"

It occurred to John that if they had an officer watching Cramer it was only a matter of time before they found out about him and Natalie, if they hadn't already. But it wasn't a subject he could easily broach with her uncle and Bo wasn't likely to tell him otherwise. He studied Bo's face for a moment as if that would tell him somehow whether he knew. Part of him wanted to ask him to pull the surveillance, but he knew he couldn't do that. The Commissioner was right; Cramer just might be dumb enough to lead them to something.

"Thanks for all your cooperation," he said.

"Thanks for being straight with us," Bo nodded, "are you gonna be around this time if we do come up with anything?"

"Yeah," he said, "looks like I'll be around for a while."

* * *

John knocked on his brother's door on the way up to his own room. Peterson hadn't been thrilled with it but had finally agreed that he'd have to tell Michael at least a little bit about the assignment to explain his return and continued presence in Llanview. It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to.

"Johnny?" Michael said answering the door and looking totally bewildered, "what are you doing back here? I thought you got called back."

"I did," he said stepping into Michael's room, "they needed me to testify in a case but that's done now."

"So you just decided to resume your vacation?"

"I was never on vacation," he said, "I'm here on assignment."

"What?" Michael asked.

"This doesn't leave this room, Mike. You don't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, not even Marcie."

"Okay," he said sinking down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm here undercover," he said, "I can't tell you why, or what I'm investigating, but when the assignment in Llanview came up and I mentioned I had family there they decided it made a very convenient cover. It also gave me a means to get to know what was really going on in town."

"And by means you mean a naïve and trusting younger brother?"

"Not exactly how I would have phrased it," he said looking at the floor, unable to meet his brother's gaze.

Michael laughed bitterly, "So the whole time you said you were using up leave you were here working? Wow. What an idiot. I should have known it was too good to be true, you actually wanting to spend time with me."

"It's not like that," John tried to reassure him.

"Then what is it like?" Michael asked raising his voice, "because I haven't seen you in years. We barely talk. Finally, out of the blue you call and say you'd like to come for a visit, hang out for a while. And then I find out it was all a lie so that you'd be in a convenient position to do some undercover work."

"You know what Mike?" John said, "You're right, we haven't spoken much the last couple years. And the last I knew you were a self-centered, ambitious, egotistical jerk who wouldn't have hesitated to use me if you thought it would get you somewhere. So you're right, when I came to town, honestly seeing you didn't have a whole lot to do with it."

"Well I guess I should be grateful for honesty," he snorted.

"But I'm glad I did. Because I've gotten to see you and spend time with you and you _have_ changed and it's been nice getting to know you again."

Michael nodded slowly. "I thought it was nice getting to know you again too, but I guess I wasn't really getting to know anything."

"I'm sorry, Mikey." He could tell himself all day that he hadn't meant to hurt his brother in any way, but it wasn't making him feel a lot better.

"Well don't worry," Michael said standing up, "I won't say anything to anyone. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work."

"Michael-" he began.

"It's fine, John," he said, "you were just doing your job. I get it. I have to go do mine now."

"Call me later?" John said hoping to indicate he didn't want to totally eliminate the social part of his visit.

"I'll see," Michael said without looking at him, "I'm pretty busy the next couple days."

John made his way to his own room, hoisted his suitcase onto the dresser and started unpacking. It was something he did a lot thanks to his job and he'd learned to do it quickly and efficiently. He hoped it would take his mind off the hurt and anger in his brother's eyes but it didn't. Sitting down on the bed with his briefcase he got out his files; he'd lost a lot of time and he needed to get back to work. Immediately his eyes fell on Natalie's file. In the past two weeks he still hadn't managed to get her out if his head. The pity he felt towards her over what Cristian had done to her and even what she was doing with Paul, her smile when she made those sarcastic little comments, the taste of her lips…

He shut his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. What was wrong with him? Why had this case rattled him so much? Standing up and carefully stashing his files so they would be out of sight he decided to take a walk. The cool night air might help him focus.

When he reached the stairwell he started to go down but then looked up curiously at the staircase above him. There seemed to be more flights of stairs than levels of rooms and he wondered if they led up to the roof. Figuring roof access was probably locked but worth a try, he headed up the stairs instead. Reaching the door at the top of the stairs which could only lead to ductwork or the roof he was surprised to find the door unlocked.

He stepped out onto the bare asphalt roof. In Philadelphia at this height all you would have been able to see was the side of the building next to you, but there were no skyscrapers in Llanview. There was a pretty decent panorama of the city from where he stood. He started to walk closer to the edge to get a better view when he realized there was already someone standing there.

"I heard you left town," a woman's voice said.

"Natalie?" he asked stepping closer. It looked like her but if it wasn't for the voice he wouldn't have known for sure; it was too dark.

"I really thought I was done running into you wherever I went," she said, "So you're back?"

"Yeah," he said thrusting his hands in his pockets, "I got called away on a case but it's done so…"

"So it's back to this one," she said.

"Yeah," he said, "though I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that to anyone."

"I won't," she said with half a smile. "So what are you doing up here? Am I interrupting some sort of surveillance or something?"

"Nah," he said, "I'm staying in one of the rooms here. I just came up here to get some fresh air, clear my head."

"It's a good place for that," she said softly rocking slightly on her feet, hugging herself in the chill. There was something wrong; he couldn't put his finger on it, but he could sense it. Something about her was off. Every time he'd seen her before, whether she was making jokes or yelling at him she had this energy and fire about her. That fire was just gone tonight.

"So… What are you doing here?" he asked.

She turned to him and laughed softly. An ironic laugh, not a humorous one. "Actually… I came up here to kill myself. I was gonna jump," she said. "Don't worry, I already figured out I'm too much of a chicken shit to do it."

"Natalie," he said moving carefully towards her, he didn't want to move towards her suddenly and make her change her mind again.

"Don't worry, Agent McBain," she said a little more emphatically, "you don't have to talk me down. Like I said, I'm not gonna do it."

"Good," he said, "And for the record I don't think that makes you a chicken. I think it takes a lot more guts to tough it out."

"You think so?" she asked sounding unconvinced.

"Look," he said still moving closer, "I know things seem bad right now, with your marriage and everything-"

She snorted. "You have no idea how bad things are."

"Did something happen?" he asked, finally close enough to reach out and grab her if he needed to.

She nodded tears running down her cheeks. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. He wanted to pull her to him—to hold her and reassure her somehow but she tensed under his touch so he didn't want to push. Trying to meet her eyes he asked, "Is it Cramer? Did he do something? Crisitan? Your sister?"

Natalie took a deep gasping breath then said with a sob, "I'm pregnant."

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

He stood there awkwardly, no clue how to even begin to respond to this revelation. She laughed bitterly and said, "It's another one of those rules of life in Llanview—the fastest way to get pregnant is to have sex with someone you shouldn't. Anyone who _wants_ to have a baby suddenly develops fertility problems."

"So it's Cramer's?" he asked.

She shrugged, wiping her eyes. "Could be. Could be Cristian's too. Funny thing—his infatuation with my sister has never diminished his interest in sex with me."

"Have you told them?" he asked.

"No," she said, "I may not. I don't know if I'm going to keep it. I don't know what I'm… how can I be a mother? I can't even get my own life together. Can you imagine me with control over someone else's? Someone who can't do anything to help themselves…"

Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her it would be all right. But he knew that would be a lie and wasn't sure if his touch would be welcome. Finally he said, "I'm not telling you what to do, but for what it's worth, I think you'd be a great mother. You… you're capable of loving pretty intensely, I can see that. And in the end I think that's what babies need."

"Even if you were right," she said, "which I'm not convinced you are, unfortunately this baby has a father too. And I'm not sure I like either option. If it's Cristian's I'll never be free of him. He'd stay with me if we had a baby, he might even break things off with Jessica, but he'd never love me the way I want him too. And he'd never let me go. And Paul… Paul would be a terrible father. I mean he's a drunk and a drifter and a petty criminal. But in his own twisted way I do think he loves me."

"What about you?" he asked, "Do you love him?"

"No," she said, "but in the end it might be easier to live without loving than to live without being loved."

"For the record," he said, "I think you're way too young to give up on having both."

She turned to him with a sardonic smile. "I bet you're glad you turned me down that night. But you have no idea how much I wish you hadn't. Because if we had… You would _be_ this baby's father. Whether you were or not, the test results would say you were. You'd be amazed how much effect the Buchanan name and a wad of cash can have on DNA results."

Not sure how to respond to her statements about what had happened between them, not ready to discuss it anyway, he ignored his role in all of this. If he had a role at all besides an investigator who happened to have witnessed a lot from the sidelines. "Seems to me," he began, "with the Buchanan name and that same wad of cash you oughta be able to do this on your own. If that's what you want."

"On my own," she repeated, "seems that's the way I tend to do everything."

"I know it sucks," he said, "but you know, there are worse things than being on your own."

"Like being pregnant and not knowing if it belongs to your philandering husband or good-for-nothing boy toy?" she asked.

"For example," he said unable to hide the smile at her crack, "but that doesn't mean you'll be alone forever. Someday you'll find someone who can give you more. Someone who can make you happy. And in the meantime you just push through. Get through each day and eventually the pain gets a little bit duller. I know it's hard to believe, but it does."

She didn't respond for a long time, she just stood there in silence before finally asking, "So what was her name?"

"Who?"

"The girl who broke your heart," she said, "that little pep talk was a little too convincing. You've been here before."

"Caitlyn," he said, "but she didn't—it wasn't like that. She didn't break my heart. At least not intentionally. It wasn't her fault. "

"What _was_ it like?" she asked.

He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't talk about this. Ever. But considering what she was going through and the fact that he'd been using her for information since he met her, he didn't see how he could refuse to answer. "She died," he explained, "She was murdered."

"Oh," she said softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize—I wouldn't have pushed-"

"It's okay," he said, "I just don't talk about her much."

"You don't talk much," she pointed out.

"No," he admitted, "I guess I don't."

She was silent for a moment, staring off at the stars. Finally she said cautiously, "You know, you're gonna think I'm a bitch for saying this, but you're lucky."

"I am?" he asked skeptically with no idea what she was talking about.

"There's this poem we studied in one of my English courses—before I dropped out of school to finance Cristian's art career. It was about the poet wishing the woman he loved was dead. Because then he could just forget all the bad things about her and only remember the good. I never really got it until just now."

"So you're saying I'm lucky she's dead?" he asked astounded she would even imply such a thing.

"No, of course not," she said quickly, "it's just… Caitlyn will never cheat on you. She'll never leave you. She'll never break your heart. She'll never so much as leave the cap off the toothpaste. And every woman you meet for the rest of your life will come up inferior because whatever Caitlyn might have been in life she's and angel now. And what living woman can compete with that?"

"And you think for one minute I wouldn't rather have her alive and with another guy?" he demanded clenching his fists.

She shook her head and smiled sadly. "I think you're more in love with her than anyone's ever been with me. Maybe death _is_ the way to go."

"Hey," he said taking a step towards her fully prepared to physically restrain her if it came to that, "don't say that."

"I'm not gonna jump," she sighed, "I was up here for an hour trying to talk myself into it, but I guess I'm more afraid of death than I realized."

"Well I have to say I think it's a healthy fear."

She laughed though there was no humor in her face. "Someone told me once that it's stupid to fear death. Death is inevitable. It's like fearing the sunrise. The thing is… I've been afraid of the sunrise for a very long time. Because every morning means one more day I'm gonna have to get up and pretend to be the happy little newlywed from the slightly twisted but oh so supportive and loving family."

"Maybe you should just stop pretending," he offered.

She turned towards him, "That's funny, you know. You telling _me_ to stop pretending. Isn't that what you do for a living? Pretend to be on vacation. Pretend you don't already know what's going on. Pretend you care about people so that they'll spill their guts in front of you-"

"Natalie," he said cutting her off with a hand on her shoulder, "whatever I might have done in the past, which I'm not going to apologize for, I'm not pretending now. I really do care… I… I meant it. The world would be a lot worse off without you in it."

"I don't think the world would notice," she said, her voice cracking with tears.

"It would," he said putting his other hand on her shoulder, "and dying wouldn't be the best thing for you either, okay? You got a lot of good times ahead of you, I can feel it." She shook her head, too choked up to argue with him further but not believing him. "You just got to believe things are gonna get better," he continued, "You're strong. You're gonna get through this. Okay? You're strong, anyone can see that."

"I'm tired of being strong," she sobbed as she collapsed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried, rocking them gently, softly caressing her hair, wishing he knew something more effective to take the pain away. When she finally grew still he pulled back, brushed the hair from her face and looked into her eyes, still searching for the words to make it better. Looking up at him and trembling slightly she circled an arm around his neck and pulled his lips down to her own.

This kiss was not like the ones they'd shared that night at Rodi's. Those had been hot and desperate. And it wasn't like that angry, almost violent kiss behind Ultraviolet. That hadn't been much more than a dare. This kiss was slow, gentle, and cool. Cool enough to send shivers down his spine. And more intimate than he'd ever imagined a single kiss could be. He'd made love to women and felt half the intimacy that he felt at that moment. As her lips slid over his the absurd thought occurred to him that she could see everything about him through this kiss. The night his dying father waved him out of the operating room, the day he found out Caitlyn's death had been all his fault. His work on this case and how it had frustrated him so much more than it should. All the secrets he kept hidden, everything he thought he'd buried. And standing there fully clothed in the moonlight he felt completely naked.

Before he could regain his footing she pulled away. She stepped back, looking at him, and licked her lower lip. Smiling as if she could taste his secrets there. "Maybe we should _both_ stop pretending," she said as she pushed past him, disappearing into the stairwell before it even occurred to him to stop her.

He vaguely remembered making his way back to his room that night feeling strangely tipsy even though he hadn't had a drop of alcohol. He couldn't remember stripping down to his boxers and collapsing in bed but that must have been what happened because the next thing he was aware of was a pounding on the door. His thoughts went immediately to Natalie although he had no logical reason to think she'd be back here. He called out to whoever it was that he was coming and stepped into a pair of pants as he made his way to the door. Opening it he was surprised to find Sonia Toledo standing there, her arms folded across her chest looking less than pleased. "We need to talk," she said pushing past him into the room.

He closed the door behind her. "You didn't seem interested in talking earlier."

She didn't respond to his comment but said, "When you left town I hoped that meant they'd pulled you off the case. That the FBI was no longer pursuing their investigation. But then I started hearing all kinds of noise from my superiors about how your superiors have been whining about jurisdiction and crap and-"

"Complaints that are totally justified," he pointed out.

"Whatever," she said rolling her eyes. "We could argue this point forever. Bottom line is I'm in a unique position to investigate the Santi family."

"And that would be…?"

"I'm Tico Santi's foster sister," she said, "I'm part of the family which gives me privileged access. I'm simply going to have a better chance of solving this case than you."

"And yet in over a year you don't seem to have gotten much of anywhere."

Her eyes narrowed further. "Things have changed since I began my investigation. Manuel Santi was running the organization until he was killed this past summer. Up until then I was trying to gather evidence we could use to put him away. Now I'm trying to figure out who's picking up where he left off."

"So what are you doing here?" he asked slipping a shirt over his head.

"INL has decided to cooperate on this rather than fight. But I want to make it clear that this was their decision not mine."

"But you're going to obey it?" he said, wanting to make sure there was no misunderstanding.

"I can follow orders even when I disagree with them," she said, "right up until you get in the way of my investigation or mess things up. At that point not only will I stop cooperating I will make sure you are pulled from this case so fast it'll blow your hair back."

"Point taken," he nodded.

"So tell me, what is your interest in Paul Cramer?" she asked.

"What makes you think I have an interest in him?"

"This isn't going to work if you're not straight with me," she chided, "I know you were the one who got the LPD to bring him in two weeks ago."

"I've connected him to a Santi drug shipment we intercepted."

"You're sure it was a Santi shipment?" she asked skeptically.

"I'm sure," he said.

"You have proof?"

"Nothing that would stand up in court yet," he said, "but we have three men in custody. One of them will let something slip before long."

"Let's hope," she said, "because in the meantime we have nothing. I'm willing to bet you don't have proof of this Cramer connection either judging by how quick he was let go."

"I have the word of a witness," he said, "but the witness is a confidential informant and at this point I don't see the advantage in possibly outing him."

"So who is he?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. We don't know each other well enough for that yet."

"Fine," she said. "What else have you got?"

"Does the name 'El Tiburón' mean anything to you?"

She seemed to think it over a moment before saying, "It means 'the shark'."

"Thanks," he said wryly, "but the FBI does have access to Spanish to English dictionaries. Have you heard the name in association with the Santis."

"Yes," she said with a sigh, "everyone knows the person who's trying to take over the organization is calling himself that."

"Any ideas who it is?" he asked.

"None we can prove," she said.

Something about the way she phrased that jumped out at him. It didn't seem quite right. "Is there someone else working on this case?"

"We've got INL and the FBI," she said unflinching, "who else would it be? DEA? CIA?"

"You said 'we'," he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. "It was a general pronoun. I meant INL in general. You and me."

"So you're not working with someone else?"

She looked for a moment as though she was going to say 'no' but seemed to change her mind at the last second. "Unofficially," she said, "someone else with unique connections who has a personal motive for bringing down the organization."

"It wouldn't happen to be Antonio Vega, would it?"

He could tell instantly from her reaction that he had guessed correctly but it took her a moment to nod, realizing he wasn't going to be easily put off. "But his involvement has to stay secret," she said, "for his safety and his family's. Also even my superiors don't know about it so-"

He held up a hand to calm her down and cut her off. "I won't say anything," he said, "but if we're going to compare notes, shouldn't we _all_ compare notes?"

She thought about this and said, "I don't know how open Antonio will be to the idea. He's had some bad experiences doing this through legitimate channels and he really wants to do it on his own. I'll talk to him and let you know if he agrees to meet with you."

* * *

Natalie was still kneeling in front of the toilet when she heard Cristian stirring in the bedroom. He'd gotten in even later than she had that night, smelling like Jessica's sugary perfume. She'd woken up sick. She hadn't felt bad at all until she got the test results the day before. So she kept telling herself that it was all in her head. There were women in countries all over the world who never had morning sickness. Somehow knowing that in her head wasn't stopping her stomach from feeling like it wanted to turn inside out.

Morning sickness was a strange term anyway. It wasn't the morning that was making her sick, it was the baby. The baby was like an illness. A foreign object, a piece of shrapnel that was poisoning her body. She could tell herself that it wasn't the baby's fault, but that didn't quite stop her from hating it. The only thing that had kept her going through this whole situation with Cristian and Jessica and Paul was the knowledge that it had to end sometime. But this baby meant that on some level it would never be over.

_If _she decided to have the baby. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the alternative. It was nothing she'd ever really considered before and not even because of some moral objection, but just because of what she planned for her life. She'd always wanted children. Ever since she was a child raising her younger brother she'd thought about when she would be a mother and what it would be like with a child of her own. When she fell in love with Cristian and they started planning their lives together all they talked about was their children: what they'd name them, who they'd look like. But those children had died the day she found him asleep with his arms wrapped around her sister's naked body.

She flushed the toilet and stood up, placing her hand on her lower abdomen. It didn't seem real. There was a person growing inside of her. A parasite. Like some alien creature out of a sci-fi movie just waiting to jump out of her chest. The thought brought the nausea back so she banished it as quickly as she could.

She bent over the sink to rinse out her mouth and when she stood up she saw Cristian standing behind her in the doorway. "Natalie?" he asked groggily, "Are you sick?"

"Not exactly," she said wiping her mouth. He didn't respond but looked at her blankly, waiting for her to explain. She thought about it; she was going to have to tell him eventually. Even if she didn't go through with the pregnancy it was going to be hard to hide. On the other hand, she didn't feel much obligation to honesty where he was concerned. She forced a smile and said, "I think I drank a little too much last night. I'm paying for last night's sins."

"Did you go out last night?" he asked surprise and a hint of jealousy creeping into her voice.

The answer occurred to her immediately. One he'd know was a lie but couldn't argue because he'd have to admit who _he'd_ been with. "I was out with Jess," she said, "After everything she's been through with Antonio she kind of needed to let loose a little bit."

Cristian's jaw dropped and he looked like he wanted to argue, but they both knew he couldn't. "Oh," he finally stammered, "well that's nice. Good you could spend some time together."

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them and I'm not making any money. Don't sue. Also there's a scene which is almost stolen from an actual scene on the show (no, not as good as the last scene I stole) and a scene which is almost stolen from Anna Karenina. Yes, I did just reference Tolstoy… I never denied my nerdiness.

* * *

Natalie hesitated at Paul's door. The last thing she wanted to do was knock, but she needed to get this over with. She needed to tell them both and she figured it would be easier to tell Paul since her feelings for him didn't run nearly as deep as the ones she held for Cristian. If she could make it through this, it would be a warm up for the much more painful conversation with her husband. Finally summoning all of her courage, she knocked.

Paul didn't come to the door for several minutes but she could hear rustling around in the room so she figured he'd probably just passed out drunk the night before and was still struggling with consciousness. He finally flung the door open wearing nothing but his boxers and dog tags and smelling so bad her nausea came back. His eyes roamed quickly up and down her body and he grinned. "Hey there sexy! I didn't expect to see you so early."

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Always," he said stepping aside to let her pass. He reached for her as he kicked the door shut but she swerved out of his range.

"We need to talk."

He tilted his head to the side, "I thought the rule was no talking?"

"It was," she said biting her lip, "rules change."

He stared at her and thought this over for a moment before a realization seemed to hit him. "He found out, didn't he?"

"No," she said, "not yet anyway. I think he knows something's going on--I mean it's just a matter of time. But no, that's not what this is about."

"Then what?" he asked. A moment later he gasped and put his hands on both sides of her waist before she could stop him, "You're leaving him, aren't you?"

"Paul, look," she said squirming out of his grasp, "you have to listen to me."

Paul didn't seem to hear her at all as he continued, "You can stay here if you need a place. I mean just until I can get something better. I have some jobs in the works that are gonna set me up real good for a long time. Baby, we-"

"It's over," she finally blurted out, frustrated with trying to get his attention.

"What's over?" he asked looking at her blankly.

"Us," she said, "whatever has been going on between us it's done. Over. I can't do this anymore."

"No," he said shaking his head, "no, it can't- you can't do this!"

"I have to."

"Why? So you can stay with your husband who's sleeping with your sister? I would never do that to you Natalie."

"This has nothing to do with Cristian," she tried to protest.

"He doesn't love you. Not the way I do."

"Paul, how many times have you even seen me sober?" she shot back, "How can you begin know what you feel about me?"

"I thought you liked that I knew how to party," he said looking genuinely hurt.

"I did," she nodded, "but that's all it was supposed to be, Paul. Partying. It was never anything serious, you knew that."

"Like hell I did. It wasn't just about partying," he shot back, "you know that. I was your tool for getting back at your husband. I was just a way to hurt him back. Every time he made you mad, every time he ditched you somewhere so he could go fuck your sister. Every time, who did you come looking for? Yours truly. And I was always here for you, wasn't I?"

"Yes you were," she said closing her eyes, "and I'm grateful for that. But this is wrong and I can't do it anymore."

"No!" he said, "I'm not going to let you just-"

"It's over, Paul," Natalie said as firmly as she could, "I'm leaving now."

She turned to leave but Paul caught her arm. "No," he said again. She glared at him and ripped her arm out of his grasp before wordlessly leaving the room.

* * *

John pulled up at the rundown motel on the outskirts of town. Sonia Toledo had called him half an hour ago and instructed him to meet her in one of the rooms. She offered no explanation and simply hung up when he asked for one. He wasn't as offended as she probably hoped he was; it was too easy to see she just needed to prove to herself and to him that she was still in control of the investigation. And he was willing to let her believe that as long as it made his life easier than fighting would.

He knocked on the door and was not the least surprised when Antonio Vega answered. He could see Sonia standing behind him inside the room. Antonio raised an eyebrow, "You?"

John walked in through the door which Antonio quickly closed behind him and held his hand out. "Special Agent John McBain."

"Yeah we've met," Antonio said conspicuously not taking his hand, "You were at Carlotta's diner and then at Rodi's."

"That's right," he nodded.

"I should have known better than to believe that 'visiting my brother' excuse. So hanging out at restaurants, that what you call investigating?" he asked.

"It served me pretty well," John replied.

"I'll bet," he said suspiciously.

"So what's your angle on this whole investigation?" John asked.

"Manuel Santi was my father," he said still scowling. "The man calling himself El Tiburon killed him. He probably killed my mother too."

"Isabela's death was an accident," Sonia chided from behind him.

Antonio glared at her but didn't even acknowledge her comment. "My involvement is personal," he added looking intensely at John.

"I got that," he said, "what I wanted to know was are you working for anyone?"

"Not anymore," he said.

"But INL is aware that he's working with me," Sonia interjected.

"And they were okay with that?" John asked dubiously.

"They trust my judgment."

"Well it's actually a nice set up for you," he pointed out, "he's not bound to follow the rules and regs and he can feed you everything he finds no matter how he finds it."

"I'm more interested in how _you_ find _your_ information," Antonio said, "where did you get this tip that Paul Cramer was involved with the Santis? I've been working on this for months and his name never came up."

"I didn't exactly get a tip," John explained settling down into an avocado green chair that looked like it had been in the room since the 70s and hadn't been cleaned since. "When I first got into town I met with an informant who's worked with our office in the past. He tipped me off about a shipment that was coming in the following night. Said he knew about it because someone had approached him about moving the cargo. He declined because he knew it was a Santi shipment and he didn't want to get involved. He wouldn't give me the name of the guy who talked to him, but I found out the informant had been involved with Cramer in the past. I confronted him and asked him if it was Cramer and he pretty much admitted it."

"And you're certain this was a Santi shipment?" Sonia asked from where she was seated at the foot of the bed. Antonio continued to pace like a stalking tiger.

"Two of the three men we took into custody when we intercepted it had known Santi connections," he said, "and there's no reason to doubt the informant."

"Who is this informant?" Antonio asked.

John shook his head. "Sorry. I don't give out the identities of my informants to anyone. Even the guys in my own office. Not unless there's a real pressing reason and I don't see one right now."

"Well it's pretty flimsy evidence. All you have is a possible connection from this informant to Cramer to the shipment," Sonia said pensively.

"There's also the large sums of money being put into Cramer's bank account that aren't coming from his job at the hospital," he added, "and the high powered attorney who someone hired for him when I had the LPD bring him in."

"I looked into that. Cramer's blackmailing the Lieutenant Governor," she explained, "and his ex-wife. And who knows who else. It could have easily been one of them."

"True," he nodded, "but my gut tells me it wasn't. There's also the fact that I went looking for information on Cramer in the first place after seeing him talking to one of our suspects." He wasn't sure he should be throwing this information out yet, but hoped putting all his cards on the table would make it easier for them to move forward.

"Who?" Antonio asked stopping his pacing.

"Tico Santi."

Both Antonio and Sonia reacted immediately. A look of triumph washed over his face followed by a return to his scowl that grew even more intense and determined. Sonia shook her head desperately and stood up so she could position herself in Antonio's line of sight. "Tico is _not_ El Tiburon," she said.

"You have proof of that?" John asked.

"No she doesn't," Antonio said, "because he is."

"He's my brother," she insisted, "he might as well be. I've known him since he was a little boy he's not capable of the things this El Tiburon has done."

"But he fits the profile," John said, "we keep hearing whoever it is it's a relative of Manuel Santi's. If you're also confident that it's not Antonio here, who else could it be? The daughter's too young, Cristian Vega doesn't seem the type-"

"First of all," she said, "the rumors that it's a relative of Manuel's are only rumors. We can't treat them as fact. And second of all I think you're keeping your field of suspects too small. Manuel had countless cousins, nephews, for all we know he could have more children. No one knew about Antonio or Adriana until recently."

"You have anyone else in mind?" John asked.

"What about Dorian Lord?" she suggested, "She's Manuel's ex-wife, power hungry, money hungry, not afraid to get her hands dirty… I think if she thought she had a chance to take over his empire she'd take it. And I'd like to point out she's also connected to Paul Cramer."

"Who she doesn't get along with," said Antonio resuming his pacing, "At all. Cramer would never work for Dorian and it's highly unlikely she would ever hire him."

"It's a large organization," she said, "she might not even know who was working for her."

"Sonia-" Antonio said sounding like he was about to start a lecture.

"I'm just saying you can't settle on a single person and ignore other suspects."

"Fine," he said, "but you can't ignore evidence because you have a personal connection to the suspect."

"Antonio your reasons for suspecting him are just as personal as mine are for wanting him off the list," she said folding her arms across her chest.

"I won't deny that," he said before turning to John and adding, "but _he_ doesn't have any personal connection to the case and he suspects him too."

"Although I wouldn't say I've excluded other suspects," John said, only slightly grateful that they'd remembered his presence in the room. "And now that I've shared what I know with you all I'd appreciate you doing the same."

"As far as the identity of El Tiburon we aren't much further than you," Sonia said sitting back down on the bed.

"You get anything from your meeting with Ramon Falu?" he asked looking at Antonio, "I'm assuming you were the one he was meeting with."

"Yeah," he said, "he didn't know as much as I'd hoped. He's fallen out of favor with the organization since Manuel's death. That's actually why he agreed to meet with me, he's scared for his life, wanted an ally. All he could tell me for sure is that Tiburon is new to the organization. He's not someone who worked his way up from the lower ranks."

"I'd imagine that's creating a lot of dissension," John thought aloud, "we might be able to get a couple other captains to turn if they're scared enough for their position anyway."

"We're working on that," Sonia said. "Where are you going from here?"

"Barring a sudden strike of inspiration elsewhere or another tip I think I'm gonna stick with the Paul Cramer angle, see where it leads me," he said. "He lives in the same building as I do so it'll be easy for me to keep tabs on him without being obvious. Even if he can't lead me to El Tiburon I think there's a good chance he'll lead me to someone who can."

They agreed to keep each other posted on any progress they made on the case though it was clear that none of them really trusted the others to hold to the bargain. John was ushered from the motel room as brusquely as he'd been summoned there. He probably should have been insulted but he was too relieved to have the opportunity to go back to his own work. There were reasons he preferred to work alone and the tension and bickering that he'd seen between Antonio and Sonia was a big part of it. He wasn't in a position to turn down any hard leads on this case but he didn't know how helpful it was going to be in the long run being partnered up with those two.

He was mulling this over while simultaneously trying to figure out what his next step should be as he parked his car in the garage in Angel Square and made his way back to the hotel. As he crossed the square he heard voices ahead of him. Suddenly Natalie came charging towards him with Paul Cramer a few feet behind her. Neither of them seemed to notice John standing to one side.

"We're not done, Natalie," Paul called out.

"Yes, we are," she said without turning around, "in every sense of the word."

"It's not like he's going to care," he said, "you can dump me, do whatever he wants you to, spend the rest of your life barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen and he's not going to care about you like you want him to."

On the word 'pregnant' Natalie froze; Paul didn't seem to make any connection but John did. Turning around suddenly she spat, "You think I don't know that? You think I'm dumping you for Cristian's sake? I'm not. This doesn't have anything to do with him. This is all about me and what our relationship has done to me and about how I don't like the person I've become since we got together. So I'm making this decision for myself and no one else."

Paul shook his head in disbelief and said, "You know, I knew you were messed up Natalie, but who knew you were such a cold hearted bitch? All your talk about how I was there for you when your family and your husband deserted you and all that. That was just a line to get what you wanted from me, wasn't it?"

"You came on to me Paul! I didn't have to work to get anything out of you. And I never lied to you. But it's over now, move on." Natalie spun on her heel and started to walk away but Paul grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

"I'm not done with you yet," he hissed pulling her closer to him.

"Let go!" she said pulling her arm away but this time he held fast.

"Not until I'm finished," he said.

Natalie kicked him hard in the knee and he released her arm. "Keep you hands off me!" she shouted at him.

Seeing him quickly recover and lunge towards her again John stepped forward. "I think the lady told you to let her go," he said walking towards them.

"I don't think this is any of your business," Paul said turning on him.

"Maybe not," he shrugged, "but you lay another hand on her, the lady could start building a pretty good case for assault charges and I'd be happy to call the police myself on her behalf."

Paul glared at him. "I've seen you before."

"We live in the same building."

"No," Paul shook his head, "you were there. At Rodi's that night. That night she-" He turned back to Natalie with a smile. "That's what this is really about. You're hooking up with him now, aren't you?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Natalie said rolling her eyes.

"Yeah well don't get too attached to her," Paul said stepping closer to John, "she'll just dump you as soon as the next flavor of the month comes along."

"I suggest you move along," John said not flinching although Cramer's breath was enough to make him want to.

He shook his head and looked back and forth between her and John. "This is not over," he said to her as he stormed away.

As soon as he was gone John turned to Natalie. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said starting to walk away.

"You're welcome," he said pointedly.

"I'm sorry," she said turning around, "you wanted me to thank you for interfering in my life?"

"I wasn't trying to interfere," he said, "I was trying to help you out of a bad situation which seemed to be escalating-"

"I had it under control," she said.

"Yeah it looked that way."

"I can handle Paul," she said though by her tone he wasn't sure she believed it.

"So what was that all about anyway?" he asked guessing from the fact that she wasn't trying to walk away anymore that she might want to talk.

"I broke things off with him," she said, "He didn't take it well."

"Did you tell him about-?"

"The baby?" she said finishing his sentence before he had a chance to, "No. I'm not going to tell anyone until I decide whether I'm going to keep it."

"I'm probably gonna get my head bitten off for asking," he said taking a step towards her, "but can I ask why you ended things with Cramer?"

She smiled knowingly at him. "I suspect you heard what I told him, which was the truth. I don't like who I've become lately. Finding out I'm pregnant… it's kind of been a wake up call. Made me realize exactly how out of control things had gotten and I need to take some control back. And getting Paul out of my life is the first step."

"So what about Cristian?" he asked.

She bit her lip and even though she was still smiling he could see she was fighting back tears. "I think he's got to go too. It's not going to be as easy with him though. There's all the legal stuff and I still-" she cut herself off and took a deep breath to steady herself. "Let's just say things are more complicated with him."

He put a hand on her shoulder and caressed her gently. "Well if you need to talk or anything you know where I live."

Shaking her head she said, "No. If I'm going to take control of things I need to do it myself. It would be way too easy for me to lean on you. And then there's… this thing between us that you don't want to admit exists. This attraction or chemistry or whatever and I don't know that it's real healthy for either of us." Gently she took his hand in hers and removed it from her shoulder.

He retracted his hand and nodded. He wanted to argue with her but he heard too much of himself in her words. He knew that need to be alone and prove you didn't need anyone. That's all his life had been about since Caitlyn's death. "Okay," he said, "just take care of yourself, Cramer seemed pretty determined."

"I will," she said.

"And if you change your mind-"

"Thanks for the offer," she said, "but I doubt it."

She started to walk away but stopped and added, "Good luck. You know with the case and everything. If there's anything I can do…"

"Thanks," he said, "but I think this is another one of those things I need to do on my own. Good luck yourself though."

She nodded. "Thanks. Well I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah," he said, "you're gonna be okay." It was only half a statement and half a question; he wished he could be certain of that. She smiled at him one last time but made no response as she walked away.

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading this far. A little more action in this chapter. As always, feedback is really appreciated.

* * *

John could sense the tension the moment he walked into Rodi's; looking around in search of the source, he made his way to the bar. Natalie stood behind it, her face taut with anxiety even though she seemed to be making an effort to go about her business normally. Catching her eye he said, "Hey, I called in a take out order."

She nodded. "It'll be ready in just a couple minutes." Her eyes darted to the other side of the bar and, following her gaze, John saw the source of the tension in the air and Natalie's anxiety. Cristian Vega sat hunched over the bar with a nearly empty beer in front of him.

"Did you talk to him?" John asked in a voice just loud enough for Natalie to hear.

"Sort of," she said quietly, "I tried to tell him it was over, but he just didn't want to hear it. So I told him about Paul because I thought that would just take care of it and he'd want to end it himself, but he didn't."

"He didn't?" he repeated surprised.

"No," she said looking somewhat dazed, "instead he seems to have decided not to let me out of his sight."

"He always this possessive?"

"I've been having an affair for more than two months and he never noticed so that's a negative," she said.

John caught Cristian glaring at him over Natalie's shoulder; his beer was empty now. "How much has he had to drink?"

"Three beers," she said pretending to wipe down the counter beside him.

"Is that a lot for him?"

"More than he can handle on a good day," she said, "He's a lightweight."

Something about the smoldering look in Cristian's eyes didn't sit well with him. "Look I know you don't want me interfering," he hissed, "but this could be a recipe for disaster."

"My life's already a disaster," she shrugged.

"I'm serious Natalie. You could be in danger."

Natalie smiled at him. "He's a painter. How dangerous can he be?" Before he could argue the point she said, "Let me go check on your order."

As John watched her walk away he heard a woman's voice behind him say, "Um… excuse me, John?"

He turned to see Marcie looking shyly at him. "Hey Marcie, how's it going?"

"Oh it's great," she said, "listen, your brother and I are having dinner right over there, and we'd love it if you would join us." John followed her hand to a table where Michael was sitting alone and conspicuously not looking at them.

"Michael wants to have dinner with me?" he asked dubiously.

"Of course he does," she said though it was obvious she was lying. Seeing from John's expression that he didn't believe her she sighed and said, "Okay, I don't know what you two are fighting about, but it's really eating him up. And whatever it is, you two are brothers, and I just think that maybe if you could sit down together, you could get past this."

"I'm not sure Michael wants to sit down with me right now," he said glancing towards his brother who was staring at the table.

"He'd never admit it," Marcie said, "but I know he does. It would mean a lot to him."

"Okay," John said with a shrug, "if it's okay with him." He let Marcie lead him over to their table.

"Look who's here!" she said brightly as if Michael hadn't already seen his brother.

"I was just gonna pick up some take out but-"

"But I told him he should join us," Marcie said, "Don't you think?"

"Only if it's cool with you," John said.

"You're not busy?" Michael asked with a sneer. It was obvious what he meant to ask was if John was working at the moment, but John was grateful to him for not saying anything in front of Marcie.

"Nope."

"Then by all means, have a seat." Michael's expression was not nearly as inviting as his words, but John was grateful that at least Michael was willing to spend time with him.

"John your order's ready," Natalie called from behind the bar.

"Oh thanks," he said turning back towards the bar, "I'm sorry is there anyway I can get that for here?"

"Sure," she said, "no problem. I'll have someone bring it to your table." She looked even more flustered than earlier and he noticed Cristian had ordered another beer. Part of him was glad he had an excuse to stay and make sure things didn't get any worse with them.

Michael and Marcie ordered their food and the three of them settled down around the table. When neither of the McBain boys spoke Marcie cleared her throat. "So… John, I'm just dying to hear some embarrassing stories about Michael when he was a kid."

"I told you honey," Michael said under his breath, "I was in boarding school, we weren't around each other that much."

"That's okay," John said with a smirk, "I still have plenty of dirt on him."

"No you don't," Michael said quickly.

"I don't know," John said, "something about Thanksgiving you were what? Six?"

"Marcie doesn't want to hear that story."

"Oh yes I do!" Marcie said.

"Okay well our dad's whole family had this big family dinner-" He stopped short as he saw Paul Cramer swagger in the front door. John could tell from the way he walked that he'd been drinking already, and every instinct in his body told him this was not going to be good.

"John?" Marcie asked not understanding why he'd stopped.

"Right so we were all at our Aunt Deirdre's house-" As Paul made his way towards the bar, Natalie caught sight of him; a look of panic washed over her face and she shook her head and motioned towards the door. Either Cramer was too drunk to understand her signal or he just didn't care, because he continued towards her.

Cristian saw Natalie's motion, followed her line of sight and noticed Cramer. "Hold on a second," John said to Michael and Marcie as Cristian slid off his stool and started towards Paul.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Cristian slurred.

"I just came in for a drink man," Paul said, "chill."

"Yeah right, you think I'm gonna believe that?" Cristian asked raising his voice.

The two men were starting to attract attention and Marcie looked at John and Michael and whispered, "What do you think that's all about?"

"I don't know," Michael said concerned as much with the worry he saw on his brother's face as with the actual scene before him. John didn't say anything, but stood up, ready to step in if he felt it necessary.

"Paul, would you just leave?" Natalie pleaded.

"What?" Cristian interjected, "Did you plan to meet up here tonight? Didn't expect me to be here, did you?"

"Cristian, that's not how it is," Natalie said.

"Oh and you expect me to believe anything you say you filthy slut!"

Natalie closed her eyes and flushed bright red at Cristian's words, but Paul countered with, "That's a bit of the pot calling the reefer hash, isn't it? Considering you've been banging her sister for months."

Cristian turned back to Natalie. "Is that what he told you?" turning back to Paul he asked, "Is that how you got her into your bed?"

"He didn't have to," Natalie said circling around the back of the bar so she could get closer to Cristian. Standing inches from his face she said, "I saw you. We were slow here one afternoon, so I took off early. I was going to come home and surprise you with a romantic dinner. But when I went upstairs to change, I got a little surprise of my own."

Cristian stared at her in shock, clearly having no idea how to respond to her revelation. Natalie fixed him with a smoldering glare and John was afraid for a moment she was going to launch at him and scratch his eyes out. The tension between the two of them was broken when Cramer spoke up again, "You know it's a shame you never got to have both twins at once—that would have been hot!"

Cristian turned suddenly and hit Paul across the jaw with a punch that knocked him back into the table behind him. Everyone else in the bar had stopped talking to watch the scene playing out before them and aside from the shattering of glass from the dishes on the table the whole room was silent for a moment. Paul recovered and got to his feet rubbing his jaw. "So the artist has some muscles," he sneered, "interesting."

"One more word and you'll find out exactly how many," Cristian sneered flexing his arms as though he were preparing for a fight.

"Would you both knock it off?" Natalie called from behind Cristian, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Stay out of this Natalie!" Cristian said roughly brushing her aside.

"Better listen to her," Paul taunted, "wouldn't want to mess up those delicate painter hands."

John could tell how drunk Cristian was by the way he swayed on his feet; he didn't know the man well enough to know how he would have acted sober, but he could only hope he would have reacted better than he did. "Fine Cramer," he said taking a step towards Paul, "you want to do this? Let's go!"

And that was when Paul pulled a gun out from under his jacket. A woman nearby gasped. Paul just grinned and said, "Oh I don't think you really want to start with me Vega. I don't think you can handle playing like the big boys."

Instinctively drawing his own weapon, John started making his way toward them as he called out. "FBI. Drop it Cramer." Something had been telling him from the beginning of the night that this situation was going to spiral out of control and now it had. Cramer made no movement to relinquish his weapon and despite having a gun trained on him, Cristian wasn't backing down.

Aiming his gun at Cristian's crotch, Paul laughed, "What do you think Nattie? I could make sure he never cheats on you again."

And then Natalie went and made the whole thing worse. She stepped in front of Cristian and started moving towards Paul. "Put it down Paul. He's not worth it."

"Natalie, get out of there!" John shouted. The last thing he needed was her deliberately putting herself in danger.

"Is that how you're gonna play it, Vega?" Paul said standing on his toes so he could see around Natalie, "You're just gonna hide behind a woman?"

John continued walking towards them slowly; he didn't want to startle Cramer and cause him to fire, but he needed to get that gun out of play. Natalie kept talking to him in a calm voice telling him to put the gun away, but he wasn't showing any sign of hearing her. Suddenly, from behind her Cristian lunged at Paul. He bumped into Natalie who stumbled to the side as the two men began grappling with the weapon.

"Stop it, both of you!" Natalie shouted.

"FBI!" John repeated, "Freeze!" He hadn't really expected either of them to heed his instructions. Both were too drunk to be thinking logically.

They staggered back against the bar. Paul still held the gun in his right hand which Cristian held by the wrist while he tried to pry it away with the other hand. John tried to find an angle to get the gun away himself, but it was too dangerous with so many civilians around. It wouldn't take much for the trigger to get bumped and there was no telling who would be hit if it did.

"Paul… Cris… please!" Natalie pleaded from where she stood a few feet away.

John heard sirens. Someone must have called the police either when the argument started to escalate or when Cramer drew his gun. Either way they'd gotten there fast. At least they'd be able to help evacuating the patrons from the restaurant until the two men surrendered.

Then there was an explosion and a sound like a slap and several people screamed. John looked to Paul and Cristian who had finally separated and were looking up and down each other and then themselves trying to determine where the bullet had struck. Seeing that both men were uninjured, he began scanning the bar and that's when he saw Natalie with her hand on her chest. She pulled her hand away and looked surprised at the red smear there.

"Natalie!" he screamed as he rushed forward, catching her in his arms as the dark stain on her shirt continued to grow.

She looked up at him, her eyes full of bewilderment. "That idiot shot me," she said sounding almost indignant as she collapsed back against him.

"Natalie?" he repeated a little more desperate as he lowered her to the floor. No, this wasn't happening again. For a moment he saw Caitlyn's face on Natalie's body as he looked down on her. This was too familiar, too much like before. Right down to the dark fluid flowing down her chest and the faint spatters against her fair skin.

"That hurt," she gasped still sounding more irritated than in pain.

"I know," he said, "but you're going to be okay."

"Liar," she murmured as her eyes closed and her body grew limp.

"No!" he ordered, "Come on. Stay with me." He wouldn't do this again. He wouldn't lose another one.

"Johnny," he heard Michael's voice say as a hand clamped on his shoulder, "let me take it from here."

He moved away slightly to let Michael in. "Michael…" he said.

"I'll take care of her," Michael said, already opening her shirt to get a better look at the wound.

"She's pregnant," John said weakly, knowing this might be insignificant compared to Natalie's life hanging in the balance, but feeling like Michael needed to know. Michael shot him a slight look of confusion, but nodded.

"What?" Cristian demanded still standing frozen a few feet away.

"Oh my God!" Paul said in a voice just above a whisper.

John tried to regain his footing; he wanted to be at Natalie's side, but he knew at the moment she was better off in Michael's hands than his. He couldn't do anything to help her, but he could do his job. He looked at the two overwhelmed young cops who had just walked in. "You guys got cuffs?" he asked.

One of them nodded.

"John McBain, FBI," he said flashing his badge, "take these two into custody." He motioned to Cristian and Paul who were both too frozen with shock to move. "And call an ambulance," he added.

"Already done," one of the cops said as he moved towards the two men.

John watched the cops cuff the Cristian and Paul and distantly heard them reading the men their rights. He turned to see Michael pressing a cloth napkin to Natalie's chest. He hoped he looked more in control than he felt, because at the moment he had no idea what to do with himself. More sirens outside; the ambulance was there. EMTs rushed in and began conferring with Michael who spouted some sort of medical jargon which didn't make any sense to John.

As they hoisted her on to a stretcher, Cristian suddenly called her name and struggled against the officer restraining him. "She's my wife!" he protested, "Please, let me go with her."

"Oh now she's your wife," Paul snorted, "ten minutes ago she was just a filthy slut."

Cristian moved towards Paul but the cops held them apart. "Something tells me you're not the one she wants by her side," John informed Cristian. Turning back to the officers he said, "Let's take these guys down to the station. I'll meet you there."

"Yes sir," one of them nodded.

"Um… John?" a stunned Marcie said as she approached him.

"Yeah," he said knowing he sounded shorter than he meant to but he really didn't have the time to worry about manners at the moment.

"Um… I can call her mother. If you think I should," she said. She was clearly shaken by what had just transpired, but he was grateful to her for at least having that much presence of mind.

"That's a good idea," he nodded, "thank you."

John caught one last glimpse of Natalie as they wheeled her out. She seemed so pale, still… He saw the look on Michael's face; this wasn't good. From the moment she opened up to him at the diner, he'd wanted to do something to help her and he'd failed miserably. There was nothing he could do to help her now, but at the very least he could make sure that the men who hurt her paid. As a second police unit arrived on the scene to take statements and collect evidence, he followed the first one out of the bar and headed towards the station.

To be continued…


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: **Sorry about the delay, I've been really busy. I'll try to keep the updates more regular.

* * *

The scene at the station was bordering on chaos. Cristian and Paul stood in the middle of the room, still handcuffed while the officers buzzing around with them discussed what book them for. Paul kept yelling about making phone calls and wanting his lawyer while Cristian stared at the floor; as the alcohol started to wear off he was starting to grasp the depth of what had just happened. John watched uneasily, frustrated by the inefficiency of the local PD. He knew this was a local matter and not something the FBI needed to be involved in, but it was taking all his restraint to avoid jumping in.

"This had better be good," Commissioner Buchanan said walking in, "you shouldn't need to call in the commissioner on-" He paused looking at the two handcuffed men. "Cristian? What's going on?"

Looking up at him, somewhat dazed Cristian asked, "Bo how's Natalie? Have you heard anything?"

"Natalie?" Bo repeated.

"Natalie was the gsw," one of the officers said, "She was alive at the scene but seriously wounded. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital, but we haven't heard anything. That's why we called you—thought you might want to handle this personally."

Bo swore under his breath. "Has anyone notified her mother?"

"Marcie Walsh was at the scene and said she'd call her," John spoke up.

Bo looked at John and his expression hardened. "So you're involved in this? Is this how the FBI runs their operations? Did you even think about the fact that you were putting civilians in the line of fire?"

John understood too well why the man was upset and couldn't hold his assumptions against him, "With all due respect sir, I just happened to be there. I tried to diffuse the situation, get the gun out of play. Obviously, I failed."

"He's right," one of the cops said motioning to Cristian and Paul, "according to the witnesses these two were the ones responsible."

Bo studied John for a moment longer and apparently deciding he was telling the truth turned back to Cristian and Paul. "Okay, somebody tell me what happened?"

Cristian looked at him desperately. "Can you find out about Natalie? I need to know if she's okay. Her and the baby."

"Baby?" Bo repeated.

"Natalie's pregnant," John said softly. He didn't really want to broadcast it to the whole station without her consent, but thought her uncle at least deserved to know. Besides, at this point there wasn't much hope of keeping it a secret.

"I didn't even know," Cristian said with a crack in his voice, "why didn't she tell me?"

"Maybe because you were too busy fucking her sister," Paul suggested.

"Shut the hell up!" Cristian said in a low growl.

"You two can get in each other's faces once you're in holding cells," Bo said raising his voice, "right now I want someone to tell me how my niece wound up getting shot."

"That idiot jumped me," Paul said, "I just came in for a quiet drink."

"You were the one who pulled the gun!" Cristian said.

"Oh but I'm not the one who fired it, am I?" Paul said smugly. Cristian looked stunned but said nothing. Bo looked at him expectantly for confirmation. "Go ahead," Paul continued. "Go ahead and tell them whose finger was on the trigger when it went off because I know it wasn't mine."

Cristian shook his head. "It happened so fast… I don't know… No! No I couldn't have- I wouldn't have- Bo, you know how much I love Natalie, I would never do anything to hurt her."

Bo just looked at him coldly. "We'll pull the security tapes from Rodi's. They might be able to show us exactly what happened. If you'll excuse me I need to make sure crime scene gets those tapes and I need to call the DA's office. Get these two processed."

Bo disappeared into his office while two officers sat Cristian and Paul down and began filling out paperwork. A moment later Jessica Buchanan came rushing into the station. She looked around desperately before making eye contact with Cristian.

"Cristian," she said walking towards him, "I just heard."

"How's Natalie?" Cristian asked, "Have you seen her?"

Jessica shook her head. "But I talked to Mom. She said she's stable—they think she's gonna make it…"

"What about the baby?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Baby?" she asked blankly, "What baby? Cristian what happened?"

Cristian opened his mouth to answer her but before he could get anything out Bo walked back in. "Okay Samsa," he said, "Are they ready?"

"Yes sir," the officer responded.

"Then take these two downstairs. I really don't want to look at them right now." Samsa and another officer pushed Cristian and Paul towards the door leading down to where the holding cells were.

"Cristian!" Jessica called again.

"It's okay," he said as the officer continued to lead him away, "I'll be fine just… tell Natalie I'm sorry."

Jessica stared after him for a moment before turning to Bo with tears in her eyes. "Uncle Bo?" she asked, "What's going to happen?"

Bo looked at her grimly. "I don't know, Jess. Depends on what the DA decides to charge them with and what the security tapes show. Depends a little bit on what happens to Natalie. Excuse me for a minute, I to make another call."

Bo disappeared into his office again leaving John and Jessica alone. She stared at him a moment, trying to place him. "You're Michael's brother, right?"

He nodded. "Special Agent John McBain, FBI. You're Natalie's sister."

She nodded and turned away. "It wasn't supposed to end up like this," she sobbed to herself.

"I don't know," John said, "I kind of think it was one of those situations that was bound to end badly."

She looked at him in surprise and studied his face carefully for a moment. "You know," she said finally.

"Yeah, I know," he confirmed, fully aware what she was talking about.

"How?"

"Natalie," he said.

"She knew?" she asked her face falling even further. He nodded. "Oh God," she said tearfully running her fingers through her hair, "I can imagine what you must think of me."

"I try not to pass judgment," he assured her.

"I don't know how this happened," she said tears spilling out of her eyes.

"I'd imagine most people in these kinds of things would say that," he said.

"No you don't understand," she said, "when I said I don't know how this happened I'm not talking about one thing led to another. I mean I _don't know_ how it happened. I just blacked out one day and I woke up with my sister's husband in my bed."

"Had you been drinking?" he asked the instinct to investigate taking over.

"Not as far as I remember," she said, "But there are a lot of things I don't remember lately. Things have gotten really out of control. I knew it was happening and I just didn't... it never occurred to me that it would get this bad. That Natalie would wind up getting hurt like this..."

John didn't know how to respond; Jessica seemed sincere but she wasn't making any sense and he'd seen first hand how bad Natalie had been hurt emotionally and physically from this situation. He'd seen her sob and then try to bury herself along with her pain in the arms of a man she knew was no good. He'd found her up there on the roof the night she planned to kill herself and he'd held her limp body after someone else tried to do it for her. It was hard for him to feel too much sympathy for someone who had been even a partial cause of that.

She took an embroidered handkerchief out of her purse and wiped her nose and her eyes; in any other circumstance John might have laughed to discover someone still used those, but he didn't have it in him tonight. His mind was too filled with images of Natalie and Caitlyn. Looking up at him she said, "You were there tonight?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?" she asked, "Please, I need to know. What exactly happened with Cristian and Paul? How did Natalie end up…?"

He didn't know how much detail he should give her; he knew so much more about the personal lives of people in Llanview than he wanted to at this point but he knew Jessica didn't know nearly as much. And somehow he felt like telling Natalie's secrets to the woman who had been having an affair with her husband would be a betrayal. "Natalie and Cristian were fighting," he finally began, "I guess they had an argument at home. She wanted to end things-"

"Because of me?" she asked softly.

"I think that was a big part of it," he nodded, "but she didn't tell him she knew. And Cristian he… Well he wasn't ready for things to be over."

"It's almost funny," she sniffed, "I told him last night that what had been going on between us that it couldn't happen anymore. Tico he—he's this guy I've been sort of seeing and he asked me to marry him. And he's such a gentleman and so much more what I need in my life right now, so I said yes. If only I'd done this sooner, maybe…"

John blinked filing in his brain the fact that Jessica Buchanan was now engaged to Tico Santi but continued his story without acknowledging it. "So anyway, Cristian, he followed her to work and he got pretty drunk. And then Cramer came in and they started arguing-"

"About what?"

He wouldn't tell her about Natalie and Paul; she was going to find out eventually but not from him and not right now. He wouldn't let her off the hook by telling her Natalie had been having an affair as well. Without lying completely he said, "Cris thought Paul was coming on to Natalie."

She actually smiled weakly. "He still loves her. I know that sounds crazy considering… but he really does. If you could have seen them… They were so much in love…" She sobbed suddenly, "Oh God, what did I do?"

"Well… you weren't the only one responsible," he said offering the only comfort he could bring himself to offer.

She looked at him numbly and said, "There's blood on your shirt. It's hers, isn't it?"

He looked down; he hadn't even noticed but sure enough his shirt was smeared with red that was drying to a warm brown. He'd seen the pictures of the crime scene; the bedroom he shared with Caitlyn had been covered in blood as well. It spattered all over the walls, the bed, the floor. He'd been covered in her blood as well as his own. That's the kind of thing CSU doesn't take care of—they come and take their samples and their evidence and in the end you're left to clean up your own loved one's blood. John had been saved the trouble though; his mother took care of it while he was still in the hospital. Threw out the sheets, their mattress… he'd been furious when he found out.

Seeing the distant look in her eyes Jessica said, "Agent McBain?"

"Yeah," he said shaking himself out of the memories. "Yeah, it's Natalie's."

For a moment Jessica looked like she was about to retch but then she slowly composed herself and said, "I'm going to call my mom. See how my sister's doing."

"Let me know what you find out," he said as she walked away to make he phone call.

He took a deep breath; he had phone calls to make as well. One he was not looking forward to in the slightest. He had to call Peterson and let him know what happened. The best he could hope for was a lecture on maintaining his cover and not getting involved. But if Peterson was in a mood or decided too much damage had been done he could easily pull him off of the case and he couldn't handle that right now. He knew he wasn't really anyone to Natalie and yet he felt like no matter what he couldn't abandon her now.

Finding a secluded area where he could talk without being overheard and yet monitor any developments in the case he pulled out his phone and dialed. Peterson answered as abruptly as ever, "What's going on?"

"I need to apprise you of a situation," John said, "Something happened tonight."

"With the case?"

"Peripherally connected but not directly involved," he said, "Natalie Vega was shot tonight in a brawl between her husband and Paul Cramer."

"You think their fight had something to do with the Santi organization?"

"The fight was about Mrs. Vega," he said hoping he sounded more impartial than he felt, "she was having an affair with Cramer."

"Okay," Peterson said hesitantly, "why are you calling me about this?"

"I was present at the time of the shooting," he said, "When the fight broke out and the weapon was pulled I tried to intervene. I revealed that I was an FBI agent. I also assisted the arresting officers at the scene."

"Damn it McBain!" his boss said, "You know better than that. What were you thinking?"

"There were a lot of civilians present," he said, "I was trying to save lives."

"Yeah well you could have done it without- Okay, maybe this isn't as bad as it sounds," Peterson said thinking quickly, "because of your brother there were people in town who already knew you were an FBI agent."

"I never actively tried to hide that," he said.

"How have you been explaining your presence there in town?"

"I said I was on vacation," he said, "Although someone questioned that at one point, didn't think my continued stay in town was compatible with the FBI's leave policy and I told them I'd actually been suspended." He didn't add that it was Natalie who had figured it out; there was no reason Peterson needed to know that.

"All right," he said thoughtfully, "that works. We'll go with the suspension story. You were embarrassed and didn't want to admit it so you made up the vacation thing. I'll have the papers planted in your file just in case anyone goes looking. What were you suspended for, do we know?"

"I said it was for beating up a suspect," he said.

Peterson actually laughed at that. "That sounds like you. Okay, I think we can salvage this, but be careful from here out. People are going to be suspicious of you. You may not be able to get as close to our suspects."

"Yeah, I'll be careful," he promised and he heard the click of the phone on the other end cutting off. He walked back into the main room of the station, pacing back and forth trying to figure out what to do with himself.

"Sir?" one of the cops said sounding slightly intimidated by the federal agent in front of him, "Could we get you to fill out a statement?"

"Yeah," John said grateful for something to do with himself. He sat down where the man motioned him and began writing down what had happened at Rodi's. He didn't leave anything out, as much as he wanted to gloss over some of the uglier things that had been said for Natalie's sake he knew this was a legal document and he couldn't. He didn't add, however, what he had known prior to that night about the state of Natalie's marriage. That shouldn't have any bearing on this case.

He was just finishing up when he saw Michael come wandering into the station looking somewhat lost. "Mikey?" he asked, "What are you doing-?"

"They said when I had a chance I needed to come down and make a statement," he explained. Looking at his brother's shirt he said, "Johnny you're… you need to get cleaned up."

"Yeah I know," he said, "I will in a few minutes."

"Okay," Michael was still stunned by everything that had happened tonight. He'd treated gunshot wounds on occasion but never seen someone shot in front of him.

"Natalie?" John asked knowing one word would be sufficient to get across what he needed to know.

"The bullet went through clean," he said, actually grateful to be talking about this from a medical side where he was more comfortable, "She was struck in the chest but fortunately the bullet missed her major organs. She's okay, she's gonna make it."

"And what about the…?" he couldn't finish the question but Michael seemed to understand.

"Amazingly enough," he said, "The baby seems to be fine as well. I got to tell you Johnny, when you told me she was pregnant I thought, 'there's no way the kid's gonna make it' but…"

"Thank God!" John found himself saying before he could stop himself.

"Yeah," Michael said, rocking back and forth uncomfortably.

"Is there something else?"

"John," Michael said, "you knew she was pregnant and neither her husband nor her lover did. Why?"

John scoffed. "After what you saw go down today can you honestly wonder why she wouldn't want either one of them to know?"

"I guess," Michael hesitated.

"What?" John asked sensing that there was something his brother still wasn't saying.

"John… that baby she's carrying. Is there any chance that it's yours?"

"Why would you ask me something like that?" he asked. It was true he and his brother hadn't been close since they were boys, but he thought Michael would at least know him well enough to not suspect him of sleeping with a married woman.

"Because she says it is," Michael said.

To be continued.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: ** I can't thank you all enough for all your feedback—it really keeps me going.

* * *

John stared at him in shock trying to process what his brother had just said. He knew it wasn't true; he'd put a stop to it the night he and Natalie had almost… And clearly she knew, although that night on the roof she'd told him she wished her baby was his. Had she been planning this even then? Damn. This was the last thing he needed.

"Johnny?" Michael asked when his brother didn't respond.

"What?" he asked hoping, although he knew it wasn't, that this would turn out to be one of the stupid practical jokes Michael used to love.

"I wasn't in there," Michael explained, "I wasn't on call and I wasn't in scrubs so when we got to the hospital the ER staff took over. But one of them asked me about it later. I guess her mother asked if she knew whether the baby was Cristian's or Paul's and she said it wasn't either, that it was yours."

"I- uh-" John stammered, trying to find words, trying to find a coherent thought at the very least.

"Is it true?" Michael asked in a firm, even voice, "Is there any chance Natalie's baby could be yours? I know you two were spending a lot of time together and you seemed to have a hard time taking your eyes off of her. I always thought it was weird. And then after you told me- I just figured somehow she was mixed up with this case you're working. God Johnny, how far are you willing to go for a case?

"Is that what you think of me?" John asked, genuinely hurt by Michael's assumption.

He shook his head. "I'm not judging, John, I just want to know if it's true."

"I don't-" he couldn't answer. Not yet. Not till he talked to Natalie, he needed to give her the chance to tell everyone the truth. "I can't do this right now, I need to talk to her," he finally said. Taking Michael by the shoulder he directed him to the officer who had just taken his statement. "This is Michael McBain, he's another witness. He treated the victim at the scene and accompanied her to the hospital so he wasn't able to give a statement earlier."

"You're here to make one now?" the officer asked.

"Yeah I guess so," Michael said nervously.

"Have a seat," he said motioning to a chair beside his desk.

As his brother sat down, John said, "I need to go do something. Call me later."

"Johnny-" Michael protested.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I have to go." He started to walk out of the station as quickly as he could but as he passed the door to the commissioner's office it swung open.

"Agent McBain," Bo Buchanan said holding out a hand to stop him as he walked by, "Mind if I talk to you for a little bit."

As anxious as John was to get to the hospital he nodded, "Sure."

"I just got a very interesting call from my ex-sister-in-law," he said as they walked into his office.

"Really?" John asked fairly certain what the subject of said call had been.

"Natalie's stable, by the way," Bo said settling down behind his desk, "they think both she and the baby will be all right."

"That's good," John said, "That's really good."

"That wasn't all she said," Bo said sternly, "and I have a feeling you know what the rest of it was."

John stared at Bo's desk, not quite able to look him in the eye.

"I'm not one to stick my nose into other people's personal business," Bo said, "so I'm not going to ask you for all the details of your relationship with my niece. Just please tell me you did not become involved with her just to pump her for information."

"No sir," John said, "That's not how I operate." For a moment he thought about confessing to Bo that he wasn't really involved with Natalie at all, but he needed to talk to her before he made a decision how to handle this. "I promise you that's not what it was about. Admittedly, when I first started talking to her it was about the case but after-"

"What?" Bo asked. Damn. He was a cop. Used to interrogation. He wasn't going to let John get away with vague, noncommittal statements. "What happened after?"

"Turns out we had a lot in common," he said, "We grew up in the same town, we'd both been hurt recently."

"And?" Bo pressed.

"Look Commissioner," he said, "I probably shouldn't have- What I mean is if we'd both been thinking rationally we might have done things differently. But I promise you I wouldn't use your niece in that way."

"And what now?" Bo asked, seemingly satisfied with his answer to the first question finally, "Assuming she and the baby both make it, what do you plan to do? Are you going to be here for your child?"

He knew he should have said right there that it wasn't his child. That it couldn't be. But instead he found himself fumbling, "Well for the most part I feel like that should be Natalie's decision. But I can also promise you I would never just walk away from my own child." It wasn't exactly a lie, he hadn't said that Natalie's child was his and it was true, he never would abandon a child that he'd fathered. And yet he could see this situation getting further and further out of hand. He knew he could stop it with one statement, so why couldn't he bring himself to do it?

"That's good to know," Bo nodded, "because if you did it's very likely I'd wind up arresting my father for the murder of a federal agent. He's very protective of his family."

"As well he should be," John said.

"Well I'm guessing you were on your way to the hospital," Bo said leaning back in his chair, "I won't keep you any longer. But I imagine we'll be talking again before long. About the case or… other stuff."

"Right," he nodded eager to be released; he felt a bit like a child who'd just received a stern lecture from the principal. "I'll talk to you soon."

* * *

He had to flash his badge to get into her room. Apparently they were only letting immediate family in. Natalie was awake but staring at the ceiling. She seemed pale, frail in a way he'd never imagined seeing her. Bags of fluid hung from an IV pole by her bed and various monitors beeped rhythmically indicating her vital signs were stable. She turned to him when he walked in but didn't say anything.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I just got shot," she replied dryly.

"I saw Michael," he said, "he said you're gonna be okay. You and the…"

"Baby," she finished for him. "Funny isn't it? This morning I didn't know for sure I was gonna have the baby. But it seems to have a greater will to live than I do. How do I argue with that?"

"So you're gonna keep it?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yeah. Not the baby's fault its mother's life is a disaster." She looked at him, took in the bloodstained shirt he hadn't had a chance to change out of and realized that was her blood. It seemed so unreal. "What happened?" she asked, "After I… Was anyone else hurt?"

"No," he told her.

"Cristian and Paul?"

"Both taken into custody," he said grateful he could give her at least this small bit of good news, "they were being processed when I left. Your uncle's taking care of it."

She blinked back a tear. "I guess they're out of my hair for a while."

He walked closer to her bed, his hands thrust in his pockets to keep from fidgeting too much. He didn't know how to broach this subject, but it was the main purpose for his visit; he couldn't ignore it. "Michael also said that you said…"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, realizing immediately what he was talking about. "I shouldn't have, I just… Right now the idea of having this baby keep me tied to either Cristian or Paul just seems so awful. And I guess like I said the other night on the roof, I just wanted a third option. And my mom asked and I panicked. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. Especially without talking to you first. I guess you told Michael the truth."

He shook his head. "Not yet."

She looked surprised. "Why?"

"I wanted to talk to you first," he told her.

"John," she said hesitantly, "I don't have any right to ask you this. But could you… just for a little bit until I can sort out all this stuff with Paul and Cristian…"

"You want me to pretend the baby's mine?" he asked, "First of all it doesn't even make sense. We haven't even known each other long enough."

"It's been almost three weeks since that night at Rodi's," she said softly, "with early detection tests these days, if I was worried about it anyway it's possible I would know."

"Natalie even if I say that we've had sex, there's still no reason people would believe it was mine instead of your husband's or Paul's."

Natalie looked down, not wanting to confess what she needed to. "I told the doctors that you and I hadn't used protection and that the dates matched up so while I wasn't sure, there was a much greater possibility…"

He sighed deeply as he sank down in the chair beside her. "You thought this through pretty well for a lie you told on the spur of the moment."

"I used to lie a lot," she explained, "You learn to think on your feet. I guess maybe it's like being undercover."

"No," he said, "When you're going undercover you try to plan things out ahead of time. Come up with an answer to every contingency. Of course, sometimes you miss a few."

"I guess you never planned a contingency for some crazy girl who's just been accidentally shot during a brawl between her husband and her lover announcing that you're the father of her child," she said.

"Not so much," he said forcing a smile. "Look Natalie, you just have to understand that this is more complicated than what I think about this whole thing. I'm down here working and the case has to be my number one priority."

"From what I gathered from you brother you pretty well blew your cover tonight," she said.

"Maybe," he admitted, "I haven't really had much of a chance to evaluate the state of things. I outed myself as a federal agent but I didn't say why I was here."

"John," she said trying to reason, "don't you think this could help you. If you look like you have a personal reason for sticking around. It would make it look less like you're working. And being involved with me is almost like being involved with the Santis so you'd even have a reason to ask questions."

"Might help me," he admitted, "but it would also involve putting you in the middle of this thing. Could get you hurt. Again."

"John, I was almost killed tonight and it had nothing to do with the case. It was just about the wreck I've managed to make of my life. Trust me when I say I can put myself in more danger without you than with you."

"And what about the baby?" he asked softly, "Doesn't your baby deserve to know the truth."

Natalie fell silent for a moment looking back at the ceiling. "Of course," she said after a minute, "I know what it's like to be lied to. To find out you aren't who you thought you were. I would never do that to my child. But I have more than seven months to work all this out. Like I said, I just need you to help me buy some time until I can figure out who really is the father and what I'm going to do about that."

"I don't know," he said shaking his head.

"Please," she said looking at him tearfully.

"I'll think about it," he said.

She narrowed her eyes. "That means the answer's 'no,' but you don't want to tell me to my face yet," she said.

"No," he said emphatically, "I know you have a hard time believing the guys around you right now, but believe it or not when I say I'll think about it, I actually mean I'll think about it."

"Okay," she nodded, "but… and I really don't have a right to ask this, but can you think fast."

"As fast as I can," he said squeezing her hand. "I need to get back to the station, see how things are going. You need your rest anyway."

"Thanks for coming," she said flashing him a tearful smile. "Just let me know what you decide."

Emerging from Natalie's room he saw a middle aged woman with short blonde hair talking with the police officer who was monitoring the hallway. It took him a moment, but he recognized her from that day at the Palace; it was Natalie's mother. The officer motioned to John and she nodded and walked over to him.

"Agent McBain?" she asked. He nodded a confirmation. "I'm Victoria Davidson. Natalie's mother," she explained extending her hand.

He shook it and said, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Davidson."

"You'll forgive me if I'm a bit abrupt," she said, "but as I'm sure you can imagine, this has been a difficult day for me. I was called to the hospital where I discover that one of my daughters has been shot during an altercation between her husband and a man she was evidently involved with. At the same time I discover that she's also pregnant, according to her by a man I haven't even met. I also found out today that my other daughter is having an affair with her sister's husband so as you can see-"

"There's no need to apologize," he said, "it must be hard."

"Well maybe you can ease my mind a little bit," she said, "I realize that no matter what she says, it's unlikely Natalie could say for certain who the father of her baby is, but is it true what she says? Could this baby really be yours?"

"You should probably be talking to her about this," he said, hoping to avoid having this conversation again.

"No, I shouldn't," she said, "not right now. She was nearly killed tonight along with her unborn child. I don't think she needs the stress of going over all the sordid details."

"No, she doesn't," he agreed.

"So I ask you again," she said, "Is it possible that this baby is yours?"

"Why would you doubt it if that's what she says?" he asked. "Like you said, you don't know me, why would what I have to say mean more to you than what she says."

Mrs. Davidson smiled grimly. "Because I know my daughter. I love her very much but if she's been hurt, if she's been backed into a corner, it's not at all beyond the realm of possibility for her to lie to get out of it or to hurt someone back."

"That's not what's going on," he said, knowing what while the statement wasn't quite a lie it wasn't exactly the truth either.

"So you're telling me it's true?" she pressed, "That you may be the father of my grandchild."

"Yes," he said before he could stop himself. And right there he realized that he'd made a decision without even thinking about it as he told Natalie he would.

She nodded slowly, processing his answer. "So what are you going to do?" she asked, "You don't even live here in Llanview, how are you going to be here for the child if it does, in fact, turn out to be yours?"

"We haven't worked out all the details," he said, "that's something Natalie and I need to discuss and like you said, with everything that's happened to her today, I don't think this is the time."

"That's a valid point," she said, "but what are you intentions."

"I'll go along with whatever Natalie wants," he said thinking to himself he might be helpless to do otherwise, "but if it's mine… well I'd want to be there for my child."

"Thank you," she said softly, "that, at least, is somewhat reassuring. Now if you'll excuse me…"

Without waiting for any parting words from him, Viki Davidson moved past him into her daughter's room.

As he watched her go he noticed out of the corner of his eye a dark haired man in a suit who approached him slowly. "Hi, I wanted to introduce myself," he said, "I'm Kevin Buchanan, Natalie's brother."

"Nice to meet you," he said shaking his hand. It occurred to him he'd seen this man before on television. He didn't pay much attention to politics, but even he recognized the Lieutenant Governor of Pennsylvania.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation with my mother," he said. John looked at the floor not sure how to respond and really not feeling up to a third conversation with a member of Natalie's family. "I don't know all the details," Kevin continued, "and I'm not sure I really want to, but I just wanted to say, I know this can't be an easy situation for you either."

"It's not exactly how I thought this trip was going to turn out," John said grateful to find some understanding even if it was from an unexpected source.

Kevin nodded sympathetically and said, "I also think you should know that this kind of thing isn't all that unusual in our family."

"Really?" John asked blinking at him.

"Yeah," Kevin said, "I mean you probably already know about Natalie being kidnapped as a baby, raised by other people. I'm currently in the process of divorcing Paul Cramer's sister who was once married to my younger brother who once slept with a woman who used to be married to my grandfather. So… you know, don't let my mother or anyone else in the family make you feel too guilty about this."

"I guess that's good to hear," John said awkwardly running a hand over his hair.

"That said," Kevin added clapping a hand on his shoulder, "my family's very influential and if you do anything to hurt her we will make sure to make your life miserable. Good to meet you." And with one last politician smile he walked past him down the hall.

To be continued…


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note: **Sorry about the delay and thanks for your understanding. I know, I know, another shortish chapter. Also, after the last couple this will probably seem boring—I promise there's more excitement in store. As always thanks for the feedback on previous chapters, you can't even begin to imagine how much it means.

* * *

John made his way back to the Angel Square hotel feeling so drained that he thought he might actually be able to sleep that night. He'd gone back to the police station where he found out that Cristian and Paul were both in holding cells pending arraignment in the morning. He'd called Peterson and informed him of the latest development—that he'd agreed to pretend to be the father of Natalie's child. His boss was actually more amenable to the idea than he had been at first, but that shouldn't have surprised him. Peterson was a pragmatist who thought only of the benefit this provided to John's cover story without a thought of what this could actually do to the people involved.

Michael had left the station before he got back; he'd have to talk with him tomorrow and he didn't think he could tell him the truth about this one. He hated the idea of lying to his brother about again, but he didn't think Michael would understand why he was doing this. Hell, he didn't understand why he was doing this. He needed to talk with Natalie too. He hadn't had a chance after his spontaneous decision to go along with her story; her mother sat in her room until she fell asleep and they couldn't very well discuss it in front of her. He'd go by in the morning; they needed to work out the details before someone caught them in the lie.

As he unlocked the door to his room someone approached him from behind and pushed him roughly inside before he could respond. He heard the door close behind them and then someone flipped on the lights. He spun around to see Antonio Vega and Sonia Toledo. Sonia wore the placid slight smile she always seemed to but Antonio's face was smoldering with anger.

Sonia was the first to speak. "We heard there was an incident at Rodi's tonight."

"And?" John asked, matching her nonchalance.

"And did you think that maybe at some point while we were comparing strategy you should have told us that yours included sleeping with my brother's wife?" Antonio spat at him.

"I thought he wasn't your brother anymore," John pointed out, "and besides, whatever happened between me and Natalie had nothing to do with the case."

"You expect me to believe that?" Antonio said taking a threatening step towards him, "You think I don't know how you people handle investigations? Doesn't matter who gets stepped on, how many marriages you break up-"

"From what I understand," John said unflinching, "their marriage was already pretty broken before I ever got to town."

"And you were only too happy to help it along, weren't you?" Antonio said.

Rolling her eyes and stepping between the two men Sonia said, "Antonio, you're just upset about Jessica and Cristian, don't take it out on McBain."

Antonio turned his glare to her and backed off John slightly. John ran his fingers through his hair, not eager for Antonio's reaction to what he was about to tell him but needing to say it anyway. "You would probably be interested to know I talked to Jessica last night," he said.

"I didn't come here to talk about Jessica," Antonio said turning his back.

"This might actually be relevant to the case," he said. Antonio turned back around wordlessly and Sonia looked at him expectantly. John continued, "She said she had already ended things with Cristian before… what happened last night. Apparently she's now engaged to Tico Santi."

The anger that had been on Antonio's face before slowly started to build to a dark furor. John was glad to be out of arm's reach. "What?" he growled.

John sighed, "She said that he asked her and she felt like it was a better situation that what had been going on with Cristian and-"

"Calm down, Antonio," Sonia said in a tone more appropriate for scolding a dog. "You knew she was going to move on eventually, you told her to. And Tico's a good man, he'll take care of her."

"He's a criminal!" Antonio protested.

"You haven't been able to prove that," she reminded him. "To tell you the truth_he's_ the one I feel sorry for. It's obvious Jessica's not in love with him."

Antonio continued glaring at her but the tension in his body eased slightly—apparently he was getting past his urge to hit something or someone. "Anyway," John said with a sigh, "please tell me you came here to talk about something other than the sex lives of the people of Llanview."

"We're here about Paul Cramer," Sonia explained, "we know he was arrested after the brawl and we were wondering if he's said anything at all about the Santis."

"Not to my knowledge," John said.

"Have you interrogated him?" she asked.

"He was arrested by the LPD, not me," he said.

Taking a step towards him she asked, "But you were there. I'm sure Commissioner Buchanan would have let you-"

"I'm still not openly working this case," he explained.

Sonia looked confused, "My sources told me that during the incident you announced you were an FBI agent."

Instinctually, John's mind started running through his mental catalog of faces he'd seen at the bar that night, wondering which of them were Sonia's sources. He shook his head to stop the process, it really didn't matter who was feeding her the information. "I did," he said, "but thanks to my brother, people in town already knew I worked for the FBI. The official story is that I was suspended indefinitely for beating up a suspect and came out to visit my brother."

"That's one of the most transparent covers I've ever heard," she said with a smug smile.

"Well I'm sorry it doesn't meet INL standards," he said, "but deal with it. I'm under orders not to compromise my cover any further. If I walk in and start asking Cramer about the Santis-"

"Fine," she said, "get someone else from the FBI down here to do it. We can't let this opportunity pass."

"Why don't you have your people do it?" he asked.

"Because it's out of our-" she stopped herself and smiled knowingly at what he'd set her up to say. He'd almost gotten her to admit that interrogating Cramer was out of INL's jurisdiction which would be dangerously close to admitting she was acting out of jurisdiction. Taking a moment to formulate her words carefully, she said, "I think it would step on fewer toes if it's your people. The local cops have a better understanding of and a marginally better relationship with the FBI than with INL."

"Here's an idea," he said, "We could always talk to the local PD and get them to do the interrogating." John knew that the Llanview Police Department had less experience dealing with multinational criminal organizations than the FBI, but as a former cop he resented the implication that they were incapable of handling Cramer on their own.

"You tried that last time, remember?" she said, "They let him go."

"Circumstances were different then," he pointed out putting his hands on his hips, "the person shot last night was the police commissioner's niece. He might have a little more incentive to keep him locked up this time."

"Forget about it!" Antonio hissed resuming his pacing, "The LPD isn't interested in bringing down the Santis. I tried for months when I was working there."

"Fine," he said rubbing his eyes wearily, "I'll call the field office. Get them to send someone down."

"I'd like to observe the interrogation," Sonia said, "from behind glass obviously."

"Me too," Antonio said.

She shook her head. "Sorry Antonio. You're not a cop anymore and there's no way I can explain you well enough to get you in the room." Antonio didn't look happy about this but didn't argue any further. Turning back to John she said, "I assume you want to be there too."

He nodded. "I'll give you a call when it's all worked out."

"You're not going to set it up now?" she asked incredulous.

"No," he said.

"You're wasting time," she said, "Why not-?"

"Because nobody's in the office right now except the emergency contact," he said, "I doubt I can get anything arranged before early tomorrow anyway. And call me prissy, but I've been wearing a shirt covered in blood for hours and I'd like to change. I'd like to shower. I might even like to sleep. It's kind of been a long night for me."

"Fine," she said spinning on her heel. She didn't sound happy, but apparently he'd made his mood clear enough that she didn't want to push him any further. "I'll be waiting for your call."

Antonio started to follow her from the room but at the last minute turned to John and standing less than a foot away from him hissed, "I'm willing to work with you McBain, because I'd work with the devil himself if it would help me take down my father's organization. But don't think for a minute I've forgotten what you did to my brother."

"Fair enough," John said refusing to flinch, "and just so we're clear, I haven't forgotten what your brother did to Natalie."

Still glaring Antonio turned and marched down the hall after Sonia. John peeled off his shirt and tossed it into the garbage. He doubted the blood could be cleaned from it anyway and even if it could he doubted he could ever wear it without seeing Natalie, covered in blood, looking so much like that other woman who'd gotten shot for getting too close to him. As he stepped in the shower he couldn't help wondering how much worse things would get for Natalie as a result of this story he'd agreed to go along with.

* * *

Bo Buchanan walked into his niece's room late the next morning trying to force a smile. She appeared to be asleep but her eyes fluttered open when he approached her bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Okay considering," she said drowsily.

"That's good," he said sitting down beside her, "I'd really appreciate it if you could avoid scaring us all like that again."

"I'll do my best," she said returning his smile. They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

"Natalie," he said gently, "you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Yeah," she said turning her head away from him.

"Why didn't you come to me honey?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, "I couldn't go to anyone. I was so embarassed."

"After half the stuff your grandpa's pulled, why would you think you had anything to be embarrassed about around me?"

"I don't know," she said.

"You know… I talked to Jess earlier," he said hesitantly, "she's worried about you."

A look of anger washed over Natalie's face. "Uncle Bo, I know you mean well, but I'm not the one to talk to about Jessica right now."

"I know," he said, "and I know you're hurting right now in more ways than one. But promise me you'll keep in mind that at the end of the day she's your sister. She's your twin Nat--she's the only one you've got."

"From where I'm standing that makes what she did even worse," Natalie said.

"Probably," he nodded, "but honey in this family it's really par for the course. Your brothers have been through the same thing, Asa and I have dealt with similar stuff. I'm not saying that makes it okay in any way, but I know from experience that it's something you can work through."

"You're assuming I want to," she mumbled. Looking up at her Uncle and seeing the sincere affection there she softened a little bit—not towards Jessica, but she understood that this had put the whole family in an awkward position. "What do you want me to do?" she asked helplessly.

Taking her hand in both of his and squeezing it he said, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's okay to shut the door—just promise me you won't lock it."

"I promise," she said in a whisper to hide the crack in her voice brought on by impending tears. "I'll try anyway."

"That's all I can ask," he said. Releasing her hand he shifted uncomfortably in the chair; as unpleasant as that conversation had been the one he needed to start now was likely to be worse. "Nat honey, I think you should know… I just came from the courthouse."

She bit her lip. "This is about Cristian and Paul?"

"Yeah," he said, "They were both arraigned first thing this morning. The tapes from Rodi's confirmed Paul's story that Cristian was holding the gun at the time the shot was fired. That's almost incidental since the shooting was accidental—there are limitations on what we can charge them with. The good news is they both will have to stand trial. They'll both be charged with a couple things—reckless endangerment, public drunkenness, some minor weapons violations. The bad news is they're both going to be out on bail until that happens."

"They're out?" Natalie's eyes widened.

"Cristian will be out as soon as they get the paperwork done. The FBI wanted to talk with Paul first, but he'll be out before the day is over."

Natalie's heart had started racing the moment Bo gave her the news but she still caught the last part of what he'd said. "FBI? You mean John?"

"Another team of agents showed up today," he explained, "whether they're connected with your friend or not I couldn't say."

Her mind running at the rhythm of her heart continued picking through what he'd said. "Where would either Cristian or Paul get the money for bail?"

"I'd imagine Paul's bail will be paid by whoever has been paying for his lawyer. Cristian's cousin offered to pay his."

"Antonio?"

"Tico?" he said.

That wasn't what she had expected to hear but she didn't dwell on it. "I guess I can be glad he didn't ask me for the cash," she sighed. Her entire body tensed suddenly, "Uncle Bo, they can't come here, can they?"

"Do you really think they would?"

"I don't know," she said her voice cracking slightly, "Paul's capable of just about anything. I would have said Cristian would have the sense not to, but it never occurred to me he'd shoot me either."

Taking her hand firmly in his he said, "Natalie, I need you to be honest with me, do you think that either one of them might hurt you?"

"They already have," she said as a tear slipped out of her eyes.

"I know," he said, "but in order to get a restraining order you're going to have to demonstrate that you're at risk of serious physical injury from them."

"Restraining order?" she asked blankly, shaking her head.

"It's the only legal recourse I have for keeping them away from you," he said grimly, "and even if you decide to pursue one it's going to take time to go through."

"I don't know if that's really necessary," she said, "it seems so extreme but then… nothing really makes sense right now. I just wish someone would tell me what to do."

Bo's heart broke at the desperate look on her face as his niece looked up at him, silently begging him to make everything all right. "I'll tell you what," he said, "You can take your time to decide about that one. I'll talk to some guys I know from work who do private security on the side and see if they would be willing to keep an eye on your room, keep out any unwanted visitors."

"I can't ask you to do that," she said though he could see the gratitude on her face.

"You didn't," he assured her, "and it's no big deal. And I bet I can get Asa to pay for it. It'll make him feel like he's doing something without going after anyone with a gun. Which will make my job easier. So you see, you're actually doing me a favor."

His last comment managed to elicit half a smile from her. "Thank you," she said.

Bo looked around the room; there was a vase with some salmon colored roses he was certain his former sister-in-law had provided and a stack of Harlequin novels which were probably Roxy's doing. He felt like something was missing but it took him a moment to realize that it was any sign of the baby's father. "So…" he began, not sure why he was starting another awkward conversation, but knowing Natalie probably needed someone to talk to, "has Agent McBain been by?"

Natalie looked uncomfortable with this topic. "Um… he came by last night," she said twisting a lock of her own hair.

"Hmm…" Bo said, "I would have thought considering… he'd be here as much as they'd let him."

"He's busy," she said softly. In truth she'd hoped John would come visit her this morning, but she knew she had no right to expect it. From talking to her mother she knew he was going along with the story about the baby being his, but had to remind herself that that didn't mean he had any feelings for her.

"How are you feeling about all this? I know you didn't plan this and I'm sure this isn't how you would have wanted things to go, but how are you feeling about this baby?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted, "I was really upset when I found out. I didn't think I wanted it until last night when I though I was going to lose it and I was surprised how much that thought hurt. I guess there's a part of me that's happy about it but I'm so…"

"Nervous?"

"Scared shitless," she said.

Bo smiled. "Well I'll tell you this—I've seen you with Matthew and I've heard how good you were with Rex when he was little and I think you'll be a damn good mother."

"Even though I do stupid things and made a nuclear wasteland out of my life?"

"You'll be surprised by how much a baby can help with that," he said.

"Hopefully," she said.

"And you know, I've only talked to him a couple times, but Agent McBain seems like a pretty decent guy to me."

"He is," she nodded a little too eagerly; "he's really been there for me."

"Even though you haven't known him very long," he pointed out.

"Yeah."

"Natalie," he said slowly, "you've heard about what happened with Matthew when he was born? About the lie that broke up Nora and me and the second lie that kept my son away from me the first couple years of his life?"

She nodded solemnly.

"I don't want to make any accusations," he said, "but you know the truth about this baby will come out eventually, right?"

She looked down at the sheets and mumbled, "Yeah, I know."

"And you know you can always talk to me about anything, right?"

"Yeah," she said daring to look back up at him, "and thank you for that."

"Is there… anything you want to talk about?"

"No," she said forcing a smile.

"Okay," he patted her hand one last time, "I'm gonna go see about getting you those guards. I also need to head back to the station. I'll make sure that both of those clowns know they aren't welcome here."

"Thank you," she said as he stood up and kissed her forehead. "Have I told you you're my favorite uncle?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "but compared with Todd Manning I'm not sure how much that means. I'll see you later."

"Later," Natalie echoed as he left the room. When he was gone she squeezed her eyes shut, the wound in her chest suddenly hurting again. Getting John involved with her pregnancy and paternity issues was probably only going to make it worse in the end, but she had been so terrified of Cristian or Paul finding out she was carrying their child she had to do something. And yet the baby would be here in less than eight months and it deserved the truth, but how did she do that without risking the baby's father, whoever it was, hurting it the same way they'd hurt her?

To be continued…


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note:** The good news is this is a pretty long chapter. The bad news is it's not all that exciting. I promise more Jolie together time is coming soon (as should be obvious by the end of this chapter). Thanks for hanging in there through these last couple of draggy chapters—it'll pick up again very soon.

* * *

John took a grateful sip of his coffee; if his room at the Angel Square Hotel had one flaw it was the lack of a coffee pot. When he'd first arrived in Llanview he'd taken to going to the Angel Square Diner right across the way to get his first cup of the day but since the shooting and Natalie's little announcement, Carlotta Vega had made it very clear his business was no longer welcome. Fortunately, he'd found a coffee shop a few blocks away that apparently had no problem with his cash.

He hadn't slept more than a few hours the night before. In the days since the shooting at Rodi's he'd doubled his efforts on the case. Not that he'd exactly been slacking before, but he felt a sudden urgency to solve this case and get out of town before things got any more twisted and anyone else got hurt. Cramer hadn't said anything incriminating in his second interrogation and refused to discuss the Santis at all.

He'd been keeping an eye on Cramer since his release, but he'd barely left his room; in all likelihood he suspected now that he was being watched. While Cramer might be a drunken slime-ball it seemed he wasn't stupid. If he didn't get anywhere soon by following Cramer, John knew he'd have to find a different angle on the case. But his gut told him Cramer was connected with the Santis and if he was honest with himself, at this point he was as determined to bust Cramer as he was to find the new Santi kingpin.

He told himself it was just because Cramer had eluded him this long. Because Cramer was a loose cannon who was going to hurt somebody else if he wasn't stopped. Told himself it didn't have anything to do with Natalie and the fight at Rodi's or the threats he'd heard him make that day in Angel Square. Told himself that it wasn't personal; he couldn't let it get personal. The last time he let a case get personal he'd gotten the woman he loved killed.

"Agent McBain?" a timid voice asked tearing him away from his coffee and his thoughts. He looked up to see Jessica Buchanan standing with Tico Santi's arm around her.

"John," he nodded, "not really agent' right now."

"Right," she nodded awkwardly, "I was just wondering if you'd been to see Natalie recently."

"Last night," he said. He'd gone to see her everyday though he had mixed feelings about it. If this cover was going to work he had to seem interested in her health and that of their' child, but at the same time he had this nagging fear that if something went wrong with the case, appearing close to him could be disastrous for her. And then there was the way he felt when he was around her; it was guilt mostly but there was something else he couldn't quite define that made him uncomfortable. It wasn't just the physical attraction he felt towards her, although he couldn't quite deny that, there was a deeper pull. One he couldn't help thinking wouldn't be good for either one of them in the long run.

"How is she?" Jessica asked pulling him back.

"Um… she's making progress," he said, "all things considered she's doing pretty good."

"And the baby?" she asked.

"Everything looks normal," he said.

"Thank god," she whispered, "I wanted to go see her, but I know she doesn't want to see me, so…"

"Yeah," he said uncomfortable with this conversation, "it's probably not a good idea."

"So what are _you_ going to do?" Tico asked, "Now that Natalie's expecting your child are you going to stay here in Llanview?"

"For now," he said, "Natalie and I haven't worked everything out yet."

"I imagine the FBI won't be very happy about that," Tico said.

"Yeah well the FBI's not really very happy with me anyway," John said taking another sip of his coffee.

"I'm sorry," Jessica said.

"It's okay," he said with a shrug, "I'm suspended right now so as it happens I can stay here indefinitely."

"Well, I'm glad you'll be here for Natalie," Jessica said, "and I'm glad she's doing better. Give her a kiss for me the next time you see her." John nodded not explaining that he tended to avoid kissing Natalie—there was just too much danger that it wouldn't stop at one kiss.

"And let us know if there's _anything_ we can do to help you," Tico said. It sounded to John like there was an extra weight to his words as though Tico were trying to send him a coded message. "Natalie was married to my cousin, but even if their marriage may be ending, she's going to be my sister-in-law very soon. Anything I can do to help her and her child and, by extension, you, through this difficult time, just let me know."

"Thanks," John nodded uneasily, "I will." John watched them make their way to the counter and then turned and left the shop. He waited until he got in the car then dialed Peterson's number.

"You were supposed to check in last night," he answered.

"I know, but I didn't have anything to report," he explained, annoyed at the way Peterson had just scolded him as though he were a student turning in his homework late. "But I just had an interesting conversation with Tico Santi."

"Tell me you didn't confront him."

"Of course not," John said, "No way I want to let him know he's a suspect until we have enough evidence to hold him. I just ran into him and Jessica Buchanan at a coffee shop."

"Jessica Buchanan's Natalie Vega's sister?"

"And Tico Santis fiancée. Also former fiancée of Antonio Vega, also former lover of Cristian Vega."

"Girl gets around."

"So it would seem," John said, "so Ms. Buchanan was asking me about her sister and I mentioned the suspension and that I would be in town for a while. That's when Santi told me to let him know if there was anything he could do."

"Well that doesn't sound all that significant."

"It was the way he said it. Like he was trying to make sure I caught some hidden meaning."

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure exactly, but it sounded like he wanted to make sure that I knew his help wasn't limited to the traditional sphere. Or the legal one."

"Interesting."

"Listen," John said, "can I get you to plant something in my file? Something to make it look like I might not be beyond corruption?"

"How about you were suspected of making some evidence incriminating a wealthy suspect disappear but we couldn't prove it?"

"Sounds good."

"Anything else to report?"

"Not at the moment."

"Okay, well keep me posted," Peterson said before hanging up.

John had barely closed his cell phone when it rang; the caller ID displayed a number for the Llanview PD. "McBain."

"Hi, it's Bo Buchanan."

"What can I do for you, Commissioner?" John asked praying this was something about the case and not bad news about Natalie.

"I have a little situation down here at the station," Bo said, "if you're not in the middle of something could you come down here and help me diffuse it?"

John could hear a gruff voice in the background saying, "I don't give a damn _what_ he's in the middle of, tell him to get his pasty ass down here."

Bo didn't acknowledge the voice, but said, "It's not an emergency but-"

"I'll be there in a couple of minutes," John said.

* * *

John was shown directly into the Commissioner's office when he arrived at the station. Inside he found Bo sitting with an older man and Kevin Buchanan. "Come on in McBain," Bo said when John knocked on the already opened door; he shut the door behind himself, sensing somehow that this wasn't going to be a conversation that should be broadcast to the rest of the station. Motioning to the two other men Bo continued, "John McBain I'd like you to meet my father Asa Buchanan and my nephew Lieutenant Governor Kevin Buchanan."

"We've met," Kevin said with a nod.

Asa got to his feet with the help of a cane and walked closer to John. "So this is the bastard who got my granddaughter in trouble?"

"Pa-" Bo said rubbing his eyes wearily, but Asa stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"Well," he demanded, "what do you have to say for yourself boy?"

"Grandpa, it's not all his fault, you know," Kevin interjected before John could say anything, "It's not like Natalie's ever needed help getting herself in trouble."

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to say," John said clearing his throat.

"For starters, you can try explaining how you let her get shot right in front of you," Asa said, stretching himself up to his full height to make the point that he was a few inches taller than John.

"Pa, I told you Agent McBain is not to blame for that," Bo said, "I've seen the tapes myself. He did everything he could to get those two to surrender the gun and to get Natalie out of fray."

"Then how'd she wind up in the hospital?" he demanded.

"Because I failed," John said looking steadily up at Asa, "It's true, I tried to protect her. I told her to get out of there—she didn't listen."

"My granddaughter doesn't back down from a fight," Asa said proudly.

"No, she doesn't," he nodded, surprised at the small smile he felt his mouth curling into, "and you're right, I should have done more to protect her. It wouldn't really have mattered how hard I tried if she had been killed or lost the baby."

Asa studied his face in silence for a moment before finally nodding and taking a step back. "Well at least you can take responsibility like a man." He made his way back to his chair and sank down. "So are you _going_ to take responsibility? Are you going to marry her and make an honest woman out of her?"

"Grandpa it's not the 1950's," Kevin said rolling his eyes, "they don't have to get married just because she's pregnant."

"It's not actually possible," John said, "Natalie's still married to someone else."

"Oh that Vega trash," Asa said dismissively, "she'll get rid of him. Jessie finally saw the light about those Vega boys and Natalie will too."

"Well that's up to her," John said although he agreed that he couldn't see Natalie staying married to Cristian after what had happened.

"Up to her? What kind or a damned pansy assed answer is that?" Asa said, "Why can't you be a man and-"

"Grandpa!" Kevin interjected, "it's not like you married every woman who ever had your baby."

"Sure I did," Asa said, "eventually. Well for the ones I knew about anyway."

"Look Pa," Bo said, "the point is Agent McBain's hands are tied until Natalie divorces Cristian."

"Why do you keep calling him Agent McBain'?" he asked, "the boy's gonna be family--I think we oughta be able to call him by his Christian name."

"John would be fine," John nodded, "and if it will ease your mind at all, Mr. Buchanan, I would like to assure you that I _do_ take responsibility for my actions. And I would never abandon my own child. And I promise to do everything in my power to protect your granddaughter and her baby from here on out. But as far as the future, I do think that should be up to her."

Asa hesitated and finally said, "Well you don't think she'd have it any other way, do you? She's a Buchanan—she's not gonna let the likes of you make decisions for her. But I'm watching you boy and if you hurt her in any way-"

"Warning noted," he nodded.

"Well, I'll be seeing you," he said making his way to his feet again.

"Thank you," Kevin said, "and… sorry about all that."

"No problem," he said, "Actually, Lieutenant Governor, I wondered if I could speak with you for a minute."

Kevin looked surprised but said, "Sure, go ahead."

"Um… privately," John said looking at the two other Buchanans in the room.

"Oh," Kevin said now looking even more confused.

"Tell you what," Bo said, "I need to go pick up Matthew from school anyway. You two can use my office just close up after you're done."

"Thank you," John said as Bo and Asa left.

"Look, I apologize for my grandfather," Kevin said as John shut the door again, "he means well but he can get a little crazy when it comes to family."

"I understand," he said, "but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh," Kevin said, "well is this about Natalie?"

"No," he said, "well sort of. I actually wanted to talk to you about your brother-in-law."

"Cristian?"

"Paul Cramer."

"Ex-brother-in-law," Kevin corrected.

"Right," he said, "anyway, I think it's pretty obvious the guy's no good and I'm just a little worried with him running around free and Natalie getting out of the hospital soon-"

"Do you think he'd come after her?" Kevin asked, "Has he threatened her?"

"Not explicitly," John said, "but he didn't take it real well when she broke things off with him."

"Well… what is it exactly you think I can help with?" Kevin asked.

"I hate to bring this up," John said although the truth was he really didn't have a problem with asking Kevin about this, "but I've heard rumors. Is Paul Cramer blackmailing you?"

He could tell immediately from his expression that it was true but Kevin asked, "Where did you hear that?"

"Various sources," he said, "I'd rather not say. The point is I'd really like to put Cramer away long term."

"I'm not at all opposed to that," Kevin said, "believe me."

"But we need something to charge him with," John explained, "Cramer has a history of extortion and if we could prove that he's at it again-"

"I can't help you," Kevin said sharply. John noticed he still hadn't denied or confirmed that Cramer was blackmailing him—how like a politician he wouldn't tell a lie he could be caught in, but he wasn't going to admit to anything either.

"Mr. Buchanan-"

"Kevin, please," he corrected, "look I'd love to help you, but I can't. This situation is a lot more complicated than you know."

"Mr. Buchanan- Kevin," John corrected himself this time, "if you're in danger of any kind I know people who can protect you. If you just tell me-"

"I'm not in danger," Kevin said shaking his head.

"Okay, well if you can't help me on the extortion angle maybe you could help me clear up some other questions—I heard that Cramer might be connected with the Santi crime family—have you heard anything about that?"

From Kevin's blank expression he believed he hadn't, but that could have simply been an indication that life in politics had made Kevin a better liar than he thought. Kevin shook his head. "I heard the Santi organization broke up after the death of Manuel Santi."

"My sources indicate it's under new management," John said.

He shrugged. "Well must be out of the Santi family. As much as I'm glad Antonio's not engaged to my sister, he's hardly a criminal mastermind and Tico Santi's a legitimate businessman."

"You're sure about that?" John asked.

"I hope so," he said with a grin, "he was one of my biggest campaign contributors."

Well that was a twist John hadn't expected. He knew the years of FBI experience kept the surprise from registering on his face but his mind began racing immediately as to where that took this case. If the Lieutenant Governor of Pennsylvania was in the Santi's pocket—knowingly or unknowingly—that put a whole new spin on this case. "Interesting," was all he said.

"Was that all?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah," he said, "thank you."

"Thank you for looking out for Natalie," he said, "if Cramer gives her any trouble let me know. Or if there's any other way I can help."

"I will," John said, "thanks."

* * *

Natalie was sitting up in bed, trying to distract herself with one of the fashion magazines Roxy had dropped off when John poked his head in. "You awake?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said putting the magazine down and trying to ignore the flutters in her stomach that she always got when he walked in.

"How are you feeling?" he asked walking shyly into the room and sitting down in the chair beside her head.

"Okay," she shrugged, "better I guess. They said I can go home tomorrow."

"That's great," he said although he couldn't help noticing she didn't seem to think so.

"Yeah I guess so," she said with bitter laugh, "except I don't know where home is. Is it back with the philandering husband who shot me? Or back at my mother's house with the sister who was sleeping with him?"

"Is there anyone else you can stay with?" he asked.

"I tried to get a hold of my brother Rex, but he's run off to parts unknown after Jen," she said wistfully.

"What about your uncle Bo?" he asked, "You two seem pretty close."

"Yeah," she said fingering her bed sheets, "but he doesn't really have room for me. And I kind of feel like if I call anyone on the Buchanan side of my family it'll be like putting them in the middle of me and Jess and I don't want to do that to them." She didn't explain that as much as she loved her uncle she found she couldn't look in his eyes these days; she knew he still suspected she was lying about the baby's paternity and she felt guilty lying to him.

"There's my grandfather's place," she continued, "but he keeps going on rants about Cristian and how he always knew he wasn't good enough for me. And as much as I agree I don't really want to hear it right now. Plus his house can be kind of crazy and I'm supposed to avoid stress."

"I can imagine," he said, "I met your grandfather earlier today."

"Oh no," she said her eyes widening, "What did he do?"

"Nothing," John assured her, "he was just looking out for you. Making sure my intentions were honorable."

"If he only knew the truth," she sighed, "I'm so sorry."

"It's no big deal," he said with a smile.

"Anyway," she said, "I thought about just getting a hotel room, but the doctor says I can't be alone yet so…"

He sighed knowing he really shouldn't say what he was about to but unable to stop himself. "Well… you can stay with me."

She shook her head. "I'm asking too much of you as it is. I'll call my uncle or Kevin or someone. My family's loaded--we can just hire a nurse or something."

"No really," he said ignoring the voice in his head that told him to take the out she was offering. "It's no problem and… well if we're trying to make this little charade convincing, I think I'd want to keep the mother of my child close to me."

"John, I've seen your room," she said shaking her head more vigorously, "it's tiny. Where would you put me?"

He shrugged. "Well I can see if they can move me to a bigger one. They have suites at the hotel, right?"

"Yeah, and I might be able to help you with that," she said thoughtfully, "the woman who runs the place used to be my mother, I might still have some pull."

"Well see then?" he said, "no problem."

Natalie tried to tell herself to ignore the giddy sensation she felt at the prospect of living with him; she knew this was just for the sake of the case and maybe out of a touch of pity. She kept reminding herself that he didn't have any feelings for her. "But won't I get in your way?" she asked, "I mean you're supposed to be working."

"I'll just need you to not go snooping through my stuff," he said, "I don't think that'll be a problem."

"Are you sure?" she asked looking him cautiously in the eye.

"I'm sure," he assured her, "but I mean if you don't want to-"

"No I do," she said quickly, "I mean it's very generous of you to offer, I just-"

"Okay then," he said standing up, "I'll go talk to Mikey and get it all worked out." As he walked from the room he took a deep breath to calm himself. Why was he so excited about having her close to him? It was just keep her close and keep an eye on her; it was just because he felt responsible to her because he'd let her get shot before his eyes. It was just for the sake of the case. And he tried to silence the voice in his head which warned him this was a dangerous idea in more ways than one.

He found Michael near the nurse's station. "Hey Johnny," he said, "How's it going?"

"It's okay," he said, "um listen I heard that Natalie's going to be released tomorrow."

"Yeah, her doctor says she's doing pretty well," Michael nodded, "she still needs to rest and take it easy for a while, but she's going to be okay."

"I'm going to take her home with me," he said.

Michael's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"We just talked about it and-"

"She has a family, you know?" Michael said crossing his arms.

"Who she doesn't feel comfortable staying with for obvious reasons," he said, "not to mention the fact that she's carrying my child."

Michael leaned closer and hissed at him, "John, there's no way she can be sure that baby's yours."

"I know," he said closing her eyes, "but-"

"What are you doing, Johnny?" he asked, "this isn't like you. In the past five years you've barely talked to another girl and now you're moving in with Natalie?"

"We're not exactly moving in together," John said, "she's staying with me for a while because she's not well enough to be on her own and doesn't have anywhere else to go. Besides, I thought you'd be happy—you're the one always telling me to move on."

"I would be," Michael said, "if I didn't think you were going to wind up getting hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt," he insisted, "Trust me—I know what I'm doing."

For a moment it looked like Michael was going to continue to argue but then he sighed and said, "Okay. I'll go get her doctor for you. He can give you her preliminary discharge instructions."

To be continued…


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note:** Thanks to everyone once again for all the feedback on this story. You have absolutely no idea how much it means to me. Not a lot of action in the chapter but there's a lot of Jolie together time so hopefully it will be okay.

* * *

John pushed open the door to the suite he'd moved his stuff into only that morning and guided Natalie inside keeping one arm around her waist. She kept insisting that she was fine but he'd noted she was unsteady on her feet. The doctor had warned him she probably would be as her body continued to recover from the blood loss related to the shooting and subsequent surgery while simultaneously adjusting to the pregnancy.

Natalie looked around the room, taking in the suite which was much larger than his old room and said, "Please tell me Roxy isn't charging you a whole lot more for this room."

"The FBI's picking up the tab anyway," he assured her as he led her towards the bedroom area, "but she did give me a discount when I told her you were moving in here."

Natalie sat heavily down on the bed; he noticed she was breathing heavily. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, "that was just more exercise than I've gotten in the last couple days combined. Took more out of me than I expected." Still in a seated position she edged back against the pillows.

"Well the doctor said you needed to take it real easy," he said.

"I know," she said squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, the wound on her shoulder still hurt from time to time. She didn't want to look hurt or needy—not in front of him. He was doing her a big favor letting her stay with him she didn't want John to have to act as her nursemaid on top of it. Trying to distract herself she said, "So Roxy knows I'm staying here, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, "I didn't realize you wanted to keep that a secret."

"No, no, it's fine," she said, "although I can pretty well guarantee you all of Llanview knows by now. Roxy doesn't believe in keeping anything to herself."

"She seems… interesting," he said diplomatically.

Natalie laughed, "That's a very polite way of putting it."

"I have to ask," he said setting down her overnight bag and sitting at the foot of the bed to help her take off her shoes, "I've read your file. She was involved in your kidnapping…?"

"Sort of," Natalie explained, "she didn't know exactly who I was and she didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. Her husband was the one really responsible. Well actuall,y Mitch Lawrence was but I won't go into that. Don't get me wrong she was a pretty horrific mother but… she means well. And now that I don't have to live with her, she's a lot easier to deal with."

"Understood," he said although, if he was honest, he didn't completely. He realized suddenly that he had unconsciously begun rubbing her feet; shocked to find himself making such an intimate gesture and not wanting to send her the wrong impression he withdrew his hands. Standing up and looking around awkwardly he said, "So… are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm good," she said.

"You sure? How about a glass of water? Because I'm under orders to make sure you eat and drink plenty. For you and the baby," he said.

Natalie glanced down at her still flat stomach and bit her lip. "I think I could handle some water," she said softly. When he came back from the bathroom with the water she had one hand placed gingerly on her stomach. Glancing up at him she said, "It still doesn't feel real."

"Well you haven't had a lot of time to process it," he said setting the glass next to her on the bedside table before circling around to sit on the other side of the bed.

"But I don't feel it," she said, "Aren't you supposed to feel it? I mean other mothers are always talking about knowing they're pregnant even before they take a test and feeling this bond with their baby from day one—I can't even wrap my brain around it existing. What kind of mother am I going to be?"

John looked into Natalie's eyes, so desperate and so earnest. "I think it's too early for you to be coming to conclusions about your skills as a mother," he said taking her hand, "and keep in mind most of those mothers aren't dealing with half the stuff you've been dealing with. There's only so much your body and mind can process at a time. I think you can afford to give yourself a break."

He could see a tear start to build in one of her eyes but she quickly blinked it away. "You know what?" she said and he could still hear a crack in her voice, "maybe I am a little hungry."

"Yeah?" he said standing up. He sensed this was probably a diversionary tactic to end the conversation, but he didn't want to push. "Okay well… the one problem with this place is I really don't have much food around here but I can go pick us up something. What would you like?"

She shrugged, "Whatever. I'm not really picky."

"Okay," he nodded, "I'm going to be honest, about the only place I know in town in Rodi's, is that okay?"

Natalie tried not to think about the last time she'd been at Rodi's and nodded. "Sounds great. And if you mention my name Mac will probably give you the employee discount. You need the number for take out?"

John called in their order and went to pick it up leaving Natalie alone in the room. Part of her was thrilled with the opportunity to be really alone for the first time in several days, but part of her was afraid of the silence; silence gave her too much time to think. Shaking her head as if that would keep her brain from drifting to Cristian or Paul or the baby she pushed herself up off the bed and opened her overnight bag.

Leaning heavily on the bed for support she changed into the pajamas that her mother had brought up to the hospital for her. She was glad that they were conservative; the last thing that she wanted was John thinking she was trying to come on to him, but they were comfortable and if all she could do was lie in bed she wanted to be comfortable. Surprised that the effort of changing alone had worn her out again Natalie let herself flop back down on the bed.

By the time John came back with their food he found her fast asleep; knowing that she needed her sleep he set the food down quietly and tried to decide what to do next. Before he could figure it out there was a knock on the door.

He opened it surprised to find Viki Davidson and Jessica Buchanan standing there. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," Viki said, "I'd like to speak with my daughter please."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said blocking the door with his body.

"Well I'm much more interested in what she thinks," she said, "is she here?"

"She's asleep," he said.

"Not anymore." He turned at the sound of Natalie's groggy voice to find her standing behind him.

"You should be resting," he told her gently.

"I've been resting for days," she reminded him, "What's going on?"

He opened the door a little more so that she could see her mother and sister standing in the hallway. "Oh," she said softly.

"Hi sweetheart," Viki said, "how are you doing?"

"I'm okay," she said folding her arms over her chest defensively.

"Why didn't you tell me you were being released from the hospital?"

"You would have wanted me to come home with you," she said.

"Would that have been such a bad thing?"

Natalie stepped closer to John. "I'm better off where I am."

Viki looked as though she'd been slapped in the face; Jessica merely stared at the floor. "Baby-" the older woman began before Natalie cut her off.

"What do you want?" she asked sounding more than a little harsh.

"Well mostly I wanted to see how you were doing," she said, "but there are also some things we ought to talk about."

"I don't think I really want to talk about anything with you," she said looking straight at her sister.

Jessica looked up for the first time saying, "Natalie, I understand that you hate me. You have every right to. But please let me explain what happened, what's happening. And if you never want to speak to me again afterwards, I'll understand and I won't push. Just please hear me out."

"I already know more than I want to about what happened," Natalie said.

"But not everything," Viki said. "Hear her out, sweetheart. At least if you listen now you won't have to wonder."

Natalie thought about it a moment longer but finally said, "Okay." John stepped out of the doorway to let them into the room. Natalie sat in the armchair, her arms braced on the arms with an air that she was steeling herself for whatever was about to happen.

Viki settled on the sofa with Jessica clinging to her side. She looked uneasily at John and said, "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

John was about to comply but Natalie reached up and caught his arm. "If you want to talk, you're going to have to talk in front of him."

"Natalie, this is a very private family matter," Viki said.

"This man is the father of your grandchild," Natalie said sharply, "he's already involved in private family matters."

Viki still hesitated until Jessica spoke up and said, "It's fine Mom. With what I put Natalie through… we can do this however she's comfortable."

Still clutching his hand Natalie motioned for John to sit on the couch at the end nearest her. "Is that my lunch?" she asked motioning to the Styrofoam containers on the coffee table.

"Oh yeah," he said, quickly reaching for her container and handing it to her.

Trying to act as blasé as possible, Natalie opened her lunch and stared at her sister expectantly until she started speaking.

"I guess I should start at the beginning," she said, "or at least the beginning of what I was aware of. You know I lost my daughter Megan when I was hit by a car?" Natalie nodded. "Dorian Lord had been driving the car and afterwards I started doing these really terrible things to her. Things I don't remember doing. They diagnosed it as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I got help and I thought it was over. But then this summer, after everything that happened with Antonio, I started having blackouts, missing time again. And there were other things… People I didn't know would recognize me, people I did know would talk about seeing me places I couldn't remember being, conversations I couldn't remember having. And after one of these blackouts I woke up in bed with Cristian. It was pretty obvious what had happened, but I couldn't remember it or how it happened or why."

"Well that's convenient," Natalie commented grimly, "you don't_remember_ sleeping with my husband. I hope you didn't tell him that—that kind of thing could really crush a guy's ego."

"Natalie, please let her finish," Viki pleaded. Natalie glared at her mother but said nothing further.

"I can't tell you how I felt right then," Jessica continued. "I felt sick and guilty. I couldn't face Cristian, so I slipped away before he woke up. He tracked me down later and wanted to talk about it. He wanted to talk about it and I couldn't even remember it. I should have told him that. I should have told someone-"

"But instead you crawled back into bed with him," Natalie interjected.

"No," Jessica said firmly, "I told him that it was wrong and we couldn't let it happen again. Natalie, he felt just as guilty as I did. Maybe more because I was so busy being confused and all he could think about was how he betrayed you."

"Didn't stop him from doing it again," her sister said. John could tell she was close to tears but didn't want to cry in front of them; he squeezed her hand. "So what happened? You and Cristian just couldn't stay away from each other?"

"I don't know," Jessica said, "the blackouts just kept happening and they kept getting longer. I'd lose entire days… I had hints here and there that something might still be going on with Cristian, but I swear to you Natalie I never pursued it."

"I see," Natalie said, "you were just along for the ride."

"I wasn't there!" she said sharply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Natalie asked.

For the first time in several long minutes Viki spoke up. "Natalie, honey, Jessica was too scared to say anything to anyone until after the incident at Rodi's."

"After I got shot?" Natalie clarified.

"Yes," her mother nodded, "afterwards she told me what had been happening and I recognized her symptoms immediately. I recognized them because I've been through the same thing."

John could tell from the expression on Natalie's face that this meant something to her though he couldn't make any sense of it himself. "What are you saying?" she asked.

"Honey, your sister has DID," Viki said.

Everyone was silent for a moment until John looked between Natalie and Viki and said, "I'm sorry, DID?"

"Dissociative Identity Disorder," Viki explained, "some people call it Multiple Personality Disorder. It's something I've struggled with myself for many years."

Natalie stared at her mother and shook her head. "But I researched this. When Nikki was out and trying to make me think I had it. DID is _not_ hereditary."

"That's correct," Viki said, "Your sister did not inherit this from me beyond a possible genetic predisposition. We aren't sure at this point what caused her to create this alter although it's almost invariably caused by a traumatic experience in childhood. But her doctor has brought out the alter, Tess, through hypnosis so we are certain she has the illness. And we are certain that this alter admitted she was the one having the affair with Cristian."

"I don't know what to say," Natalie said looking at the floor.

"It's a lot to take in," her mother said sympathetically.

"I know how much she hurt you," Jessica said, "That's why she did it. She hates my family because she knows how much you mean to me. She knows you make me strong and if I'm not strong it's easier for her to come out. So she set out to drive you all away."

"She did a good job," Natalie said softly.

Jessica bit her lip. "I don't have any right to ask for your forgiveness-"

"Well apparently you don't have to," she said, "Evidently it wasn't you."

"No, it wasn't-"

"But it was a part of you, right?" she continued, "so _part_ of you wanted to do it? Was it hurting me or lust for Cristian? What was the appeal?"

"Natalie," Viki said, "your sister is hurting too."

"Mom, it's okay," Jessica said but her mother continued.

"She's going to need our support to get through this."

"I'm sorry," Natalie said shaking her head, "but I can't. Look Jess, I'm sorry for what you're going through but it doesn't change what I'm going through. What you… what she did just about destroyed me. It almost killed me, literally. And so right now, I need to concentrate on my baby and getting better myself and getting my life in order before the baby comes."

"I understand," Jessica said as a tear slid down her cheek, "it's too soon."

"Yes, it is," Natalie said putting her food to the side and standing up, "but good luck." She wobbled as she got to her feet; instinctively, John jumped up and caught her shoulders to steady her. Angrily she shrugged off his touch. "I'm fine," she mumbled as she made her way back to the bedroom.

John turned to her mother and sister; Jessica was looking down at her hands while Viki stared longingly after her other daughter. "I think you'd better go," John said.

Viki looked ready to argue but Jessica took her hand and said, "Come on, Mom."

As John opened the door to let them out Viki called into the backroom, "I love you, baby." When Natalie didn't respond she turned to John and said, "Take care of her."

"I will," he promised. He closed the door behind them and walked into the bedroom area. Natalie was lying on her side with her back turned to him; he suspected she was crying. Circling around the bed, he confirmed his suspicions. "You okay?" he asked dropping down into a squat so he could look directly into her face.

"I'm fine," she mumbled in one of the most unconvincing voices he'd ever heard.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked reaching up to stroke the hair at her forehead.

"I want to make it go away," she said, "but I don't think that's going to happen." He didn't say anything but continued caressing her hair as he waited for her to continue. "I was 21 before I found out who I am," she said, "and sometimes I wish I never had."

"You don't think it's still better to know the truth?" he asked.

Not able to stop herself from thinking of the inevitable truth she'd have to tell her baby about its father she said, "Sometimes I don't know."

"Well I realize I don't know her very well," he said, "but your mom loves you. I can see that."

"Of course she does," she sniffed, "she's perfect. She's everything Roxy never was. I went from having this drunk with a gambling problem and lousy taste in men as my only family to finding out I had three brothers, a father that's only bothered to see me twice, the perfect mother, and the perfect twin sister."

"Nobody's perfect," he reminded her.

"Tell that to the rest of Llanview," she said. "And the thing about them being so perfect is I can't ever quite measure up. All of the other women in my family are genteel and level headed and caring and I always seem to make the wrong choices and I can't seem to get my act together. And of course, being perfect, my family doesn't hold it against me—they just kind of shake their heads. Ever since I came to town its like I can hear them thinking, 'Oh Natalie! So full of anger!' 'Oh Natalie! Stealing Jen's boyfriend!' Natalie drops out of school to work double shifts as a bartender while Jessica starts a promising career as a journalist. She always did everything right, I was always the screw up."

"I think that's changed now," he said.

"Has it?" she asked pushing up on her elbow, "Because as far as anyone else is concerned I cheated on my husband and it looks to me like she just got a nice little get out of jail free card. _She_ wasn't the one who slept with my husband it was her evil alter."

"I guess it does make a nice out," John nodded, "you think she's lying?"

"No," she sighed allowing John to slip onto the bed next to her, "I'm sure it's true and I know what she's going through is awful and I'm the most selfish person in the world for holding it against her-"

"You're not selfish," he assured her as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her weight against him, "you're just human and you've been going through something no one should have to go through."

"It's just-" her voice cracked, "everyone's always worried about Jessica. And they tend to assume I'll be fine on my own. I think it's habit mostly—they aren't used to worrying about me and for so many years I had to look out for myself so I _can_ but…"

"It doesn't mean you always want to."

She shook her head and nestled more tightly against him. "I just found out I'm having a baby," she said, "and my life is a disaster. If there was ever a time I wanted my mother it's now. But yet again, she's busy with Jessica and I have to take care of myself." The tears began flowing more freely from her eyes until she was on the verge of sobbing.

"Well I know I'm no substitute for a mother," he said stroking her hair, "but I'm here for you. Whatever you need—someone to listen, someone to scream at, go out and get you pickles and ice cream."

She smiled at his last comment and said softly, "No thanks, I'm not hungry right now."

"Okay, well if that changes you just let me know," he said smiling down at her, "and I don't want to be a pain in the ass, but you really should think about eating something."

"Later. Actually this is helping," she said looking up at him, "just having someone to sit with. Someone to hold me. And you've already done so much for me. Which is crazy because you're a complete stranger and I have a family and a husband and in a normal world it would be one of them but…"

"Shh," he said kissing the top of her head, "we don't need to talk about that right now." He could feel dampness on his shirt where her tears had started soaking through. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him tightly as though she were afraid he would be dragged away by some unknown force. Speaking to her softly he continued stroking her hair and letting her cry herself dry. After a long while--he didn't know how long--she grew still and he realized she'd fallen asleep again.

Kissing her hair once more he carefully slid out from around her and eased her back on the pillows. He hated to leave her now and she still hadn't eaten anything to speak of, but he had work he needed to do and he figured sleep wouldn't hurt her. He put her burger and fries in the mini-fridge and wrote a quick note before slipping quietly from the room.

* * *

Natalie woke with a start completely disoriented; it took her a full minute of looking at her surroundings to remember that she was in John's suite at the Angel Square Hotel and why. She looked at the clock by the bed. It read 6:30 but by the dusky light coming in the window she couldn't be sure whether it was am or pm. How long had she been asleep? Where was John? She called his name softly but there was no response. Flushing red she remembered that she'd broken down in front of him again and then fallen asleep clinging to him like a child—he'd probably fled if he had any sense at all.

That's when she saw the note explaining that he'd gone out to 'take care of some things' and that her burger was in the refrigerator. There was a banging on the door and that was when she remembered that the noise at the door had awakened her in the first place. Before she could question the wisdom of opening the door she instinctively got out of bed and hurried to it.

Flinging it open she found Cristian standing there with a large thin package under one arm. "Hello Natalie," he said with a tender smile, "can I come in?"

To be continued…


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: **Thanks as always for the feedback—it really means a lot to me.

* * *

_From Chapter 16_

Before she could question the wisdom of opening the door, she instinctively got out of bed and hurried to it.

Flinging it open she found Cristian standing there with a large thin package under one arm. "Hello Natalie," he said with a tender smile, "can I come in?"

**Chapter 17**

"What are you doing here, Cris?" she asked icily.

"I needed to see you," he said, "I tried to see you in the hospital but there were these guards outside of your room."

"I know," she said, "my grandfather put them there at my request to keep you out."

Cristian looked hurt by this revelation but undaunted. "I don't blame you. After what I did to you-"

"How did you find me?" she asked not interested in hearing him give her permission to be angry.

"Small town," he said, "people talk. Roxy said something in the diner and my mom overheard and…"

"You just thought you'd come right on over?" she asked. "Seriously Cris, if I hired guards to keep you away when I was in the hospital, what makes you think I want to see you now?"

Cristian took a deep breath. "I didn't dare hope that you'd want to see me, but I hoped that maybe if I came here, I could convince you to talk to me. Give me a chance to tell you how sorry I am for everything that I did to you. To tell you things are going to change."

"Damn right they are," she said steadily, "probably not the way you were hoping though. But if you want to tell me how sorry you are by all means, go ahead."

He looked around awkwardly. "Can I come in?"

"No," she said, her body blocking the door.

"Natalie, please!" he begged in a soft voice. She didn't want to let him in, but then again enough of their relationship had been broadcast to all of Llanview, she didn't see any need to continue that.

"Fine," she said turning her back to him and leaving him to close the door after himself. "But just so you know, John will be back any minute. He's not going to be happy if he finds you here." It was a lie—she had no idea when John would be back and she didn't know if he'd even care that she was talking to Cristian, but she wanted to remind her husband that she was with another man now. She could see that he didn't like being reminded of John's existence; his hands clenched ever so slightly and his shoulder muscles tensed.

Natalie settled into the armchair in which she'd sat earlier while talking with her mother and Jessica; something about it reminded her of a throne, it made her feel more powerful, more in control. Cristian sat on the couch close to her, placing the package standing up beside her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked leaning towards her.

"I've been a bit under the weather," she said narrowing her eyes, "my husband shot me earlier this week."

Cristian looked down. "I was so scared when I saw that you'd been shot, Natalie. I thought I was going to lose you. Knowing you'd slept with Paul… it didn't matter any more. Losing you to another guy was nothing compared to the thought of losing you completely."

"Especially considering you were the one holding the gun when it went off," she said.

"It was an accident," he said.

"Right," she nodded, "and sleeping with my sister, was that an accident too? Did you trip or something?"

"Jess said she and your mother came by to talk to you," he said, "she said that she explained everything that's been going on with the DID. That wasn't really her-"

"But it _was_ you," she reminded him, "DID isn't contagious. I've heard Jessica's excuse, what's yours?"

"She came on to me," he insisted sounding surprised that Natalie hadn't accepted his excuse.

"And you were helpless to resist?" she asked, "in addition to having another personality running around in her head does my sister have magical powers of seduction?"

"I regret what happened," he said, "so much. I don't know what came over me. Jessica and I have been friends a long time and she was so upset over Antonio… I just wanted to make her feel better."

"Well that was a very interesting strategy you came up with. Practically sounds like community service when you put it that way," Natalie said with a fake smile, "tell me, did you think at any point about how it was going to make me feel?"

"Of course I did," he said, "but it just kept getting more and more out of control and-"

"What's that?" she asked pointing to the package. She didn't want to talk about this anymore; she just wanted the conversation over and for Cris to leave.

He smiled as he picked it up. "A get well soon present." He handed it to her and she took it cautiously. She could tell from the size and shape it was a painting but she couldn't begin to think why he would bring her one now. Ripping off the brown paper covering it she revealed a portrait of herself smiling down at an infant in her arms.

Looking back up at him she gave him a questioning look. Cristian edged closer to her as he explained, "That night… It was like I was in a haze. I was so drunk and so mad I couldn't think. Nothing seemed to make sense. And then McBain told us you were pregnant and everything snapped back into focus. I spent the whole night praying that you would both be okay. Sometime during the night I fell asleep and I saw this in my dreams—you and our baby. And I swore that I would do whatever I had to do to get you back so we could build a life together with our baby."

Natalie shook her head, feeling slightly shocked by the painting and by Cristian's declaration. "You keep saying 'our' baby, Cris, but-"

"I know," he said, "I know you said the baby's McBain's, but we both know that there's no way you can be sure."

"I am-" she tried to protest but he continued.

"_I'm_ sure Natalie. I'm sure this is our baby. This can change everything."

"And what if it's _not_ your baby," she said biting her lip.

"It is," he said refusing to consider the possibility.

"But if it were," she said putting the painting down on the floor, "would you still want me back? Could you raise a child that had John McBain's eyes or smiled like Paul Cramer?"

Cristian stammered, "I… I…"

"Better question," she said her expression hardening again, "what happens the next time my sister needs to cry on your shoulder? Or some other pretty girl comes on to you?"

"I swear to you Natalie," he said taking her hand, "I will never cheat on you again."

"Yeah, but at our wedding you swore to be faithful to me forever," she said bitterly, "so you'll have to excuse me if I have a hard time believing you again."

"We've both made mistakes," he said.

"You're right," she nodded, "I should have left you the night I caught you with Jessica. Staying—that was a mistake."

"Don't say that," he pleaded dropping to his knees at her feet.

"Cristian, look what's happened," she said, angry with herself for the tears she felt building in her eyes; he didn't deserve her tears anymore, "we nearly killed each other. It's over. I'm with John now."

"You don't love him," he said.

Natalie scowled and shook her head, "Don't pretend you have any idea how I feel."

"I know you, Natalie," he said reaching up to caress her cheek, "I know you're impulsive and you can get caught up in things. That you feel very intensely. But that's not the same as love. I know you still love me."

"Don't fool yourself," she insisted, unable to stop her voice from cracking.

Cristian rose up on his knees so that his face was closer to hers. "I also know that you're stubborn. You're not going to admit I'm right. So I guess there's only one way settle this."

"What's that?" she asked squeezing her eyes shut so that she wouldn't have to look into his.

"I can prove you still love me," he said slowly closing the distance between them.

"Really?" she asked knowing she was challenging him and she shouldn't, "how?"

"Like this." Taking her head in his hands he kissed her gently but insistently on the lips. Natalie didn't return his kiss, but she didn't push him away like she knew she should have; she sat there woodenly with tears streaming down her face praying silently for him to go away but unable to deny the small part of her heart that still yearned for him. When his tongue pressed against her lips, asking for entrance, however, she kept her lips sealed tightly.

And that's when she heard the door open.

John's first instinct when he opened the door and saw Cristian kissing Natalie was to grab him by the scruff of the neck and throw him out the door… or down the stairs… But it wasn't his place and Natalie didn't seem to be pushing him away. If she'd wanted him to leave she would have made it known.

A pang of jealousy shot through him. Why? Why should he be jealous? The man kissing her was her husband and he was just… who? He was the man who had been holding her a few hours ago. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that it didn't mean anything. They weren't lovers; at best they were friends. Mutual acquaintances who were helping each other out of convenience.

He thought about just backing out and shutting the door behind him but it was too late. Cristian broke the kiss and pulled back a few inches and that's when John saw the tears running down Natalie's cheeks. "Natalie?" Cristian said in a soft tender voice.

Natalie still didn't open her eyes but the knowledge that John was standing in the door somehow gave her the strength she couldn't summon a moment earlier. "Don't," she said pushing his hands away from her face.

His voice was a little more desperate this time as he tried again. "Natalie, I-"

"Go," she said, "please."

"You felt something," he insisted, "you can't tell me you didn't feel anything in that kiss."

She opened her eyes and looked into his eyes, surprised to discover that they didn't weaken her resolve at all. "Yes, I felt something," she said.

"I knew it!" he said triumphantly.

"I felt disgust. I wondered where those lips had been. I felt anger. Hate."

"Princesa-" he tried to interject, but Natalie wasn't going to let him do this. She wasn't going to let him manipulate her with pet names and false promises.

"Cristian," she said forcing her voice to remain steady, "leave."

"You're still my wife!" he hissed gripping her arm tightly.

That tiny act of physical aggression was all the prompting John needed; in an instant he closed the distance between them and yanked Cristian to his feet. "I think the lady asked you to leave," he said.

"This is none of your business," Cristian said shrugging out of his grip.

"Yes it is," Natalie said rising to her feet, "My business is his business. Now get out."

John pushed Cristian roughly out the door. Once they were in the hallway he closed the door partway behind him and pushed Cristian against the wall. "Let me make this clear—she asked you to leave. You don't come back unless she calls you and invites you over. And I wouldn't hold your breath waiting for that to happen. If I hear that you've been harassing her or that you've put your hands on her, you're going to have to deal with me. And trust me you don't want that to happen."

Cristian laughed at him. "She's amazing, isn't she? She can sure make a guy do crazy things."

"From what I've seen _she_ didn't make you do the crazy things you did," he said.

"She's my wife," he said again.

"For now," John said relaxing his grip on the other man slightly.

"How long do you think she's going to stay with you?" he said with a smirk, "Face it, she's just using you to get over me."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he said letting go of him, "now get out of here." He pushed Cristian down the hall towards the exit; he stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing. Looking back over his shoulder he smirked in John's direction once more before making his way down the hall.

John walked back into the apartment to find Natalie sitting in the armchair looking completely stunned. "You all right?" he asked.

Looking up at him with sudden fire in her eyes she said, "What the hell was that?"

"Excuse me?" he asked blankly.

"I'm not some helpless damsel in distress," she said, "I don't need a knight in shining armor to come charging in and save me."

"It didn't look like he was going to take no for an answer," he said.

"I can handle my husband," she insisted.

"Oh like you did that night at Rodi's?" he shot back. He instantly regretted bringing that up but before he could get a chance to withdraw it Natalie stood up.

"Why do you even care?" she demanded starting towards him, "You just-" Natalie had made it a few steps before she realized her knees were collapsing underneath her and the room was getting black. John saw her start to fall and rushed to her side; without thinking she grasped at him with her right arm causing pain to shoot through the wound in her shoulder. She let out a cry as John caught her around the waist and eased her to the ground.

Gasping for breath she let John hold her while the pain subsided and the world stopped spinning. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment in a shaky voice.

"Don't apologize," he said, "are you all right?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Don't lie," he said sternly, "do I need to take you back to the hospital? Or I can go get Mike, he's just down the hall."

"No, no, don't," she pleaded, "I just got lightheaded for a second."

"It's no wonder," he said, "I should have made you eat earlier."

"Nobody makes me do anything I don't want to," she said; her voice was still unsteady but she managed to force a smile.

"We'll see about that," he said propping her against the couch and standing up, "you stay right here, I'm gonna heat up the lunch you didn't eat. No arguments."

Natalie leaned her head on one hand and mumbled, "I hate this."

"Eating?" John asked as he put the food in the microwave.

"Looking weak," she said.

"I don't think you look weak," he said, "I think you look like a pregnant woman who got shot not too long ago and hasn't eaten all day."

"Tomato, tomahto," she shrugged.

A couple minutes later he sat beside her on the floor and put her food on the coffee table. She was studying the painting Cristian had brought her. "Cris do that?" he asked nodding towards it.

"Yeah," she said, "I think it was a combination 'get well' and 'please take me back' present."

"Did it work?" he asked.

"You heard me ask him to leave," she said forcing herself to take a bite of the reheated burger. It didn't taste very good, but that one bite made her realize how hungry she actually was.

"He didn't seem to think it was for good," John said studying her face.

Natalie continued staring at the painting. "He says he wants another chance. That he wants us to raise the baby together. He's convinced that it's his and he sees this beautiful Norman Rockwell life for us."

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"I think this might be all I ever was to him," she said motioning to the canvas, "I think I was just a painting. A pretty picture. I'm not sure if he ever realized I was a real woman."

"Not that you're not pretty," he said smiling slightly, "but I doubt anyone could be around you for long without realizing you're a lot more than a picture."

"I don't know," she said shaking her head, "The thing is, I think he's telling the truth as far as he knows it. I think he really does believe that he's sorry and he really does believe that a painting can fix it all."

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think he means it for now," she said, "but he'll forget all about us the moment he sees the next pretty picture. Whoever she happens to be." She ate in silence for a moment and then said, "I'm sorry about snapping at you. You weren't who I was mad at."

"That's okay," he said, "if you need to yell at me instead of Cris-"

"It wasn't Cristian," she said, "I'm mad at myself. I'm mad at the part of myself that wanted him to kiss me. That wanted to forgive him. I'm mad at the part of myself that still loves him. Why can't I stop loving him?"

John wiped the tear that had slipped from her eye away with his thumb. "Love sucks like that," he said, "you can't just turn it off. Even when you want to. Even when you know you should. The question is whether you love him enough to give him a second chance."

She didn't even have to think about it. "No," she said, "I mean, I still love him, but I'm not in love with him. And no matter how much of me still loves him, he'll never love me enough to stay faithful to me. And that night at Rodi's, I saw something about him I hadn't realized. I don't know if I was blinded by love or what, but his temper can be kind of scary. And I have to think of my baby and I can't risk my baby around it."

"Even if the baby's his?" he asked, articulating the question he knew she was trying to avoid asking herself.

"I don't know," she said shaking her head slowly, "I guess… I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." Shaking her head more emphatically and wiping her eyes she said, "Wow. I bet you didn't expect half this drama the day you took me home with you."

"Not really," he admitted, "but I don't mind."

Smiling tearfully at him she asked, "How can I ever thank you for all this?"

"Well for starters," he said patting her on the head, "you can eat your dinner. And let's not have any more of that fainting stuff, okay?"

"I'll try," she promised biting her lower lip.

John smiled back at her. There was work he should be doing; he'd meant to go back out tonight but he realized he couldn't leave Natalie alone. And he realized to his surprise that he didn't even want to.

To be continued…


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note: **Thanks for the feedback, sorry for not updating sooner.

John lingered in the café trying to make it look like he had a purpose for being there; he'd been following his quarry off and on for a week now and every morning he came into this place at the same time. Today, of course, when John had positioned himself to run into him, he was late. Finally he saw the swanky car pull into the parking lot and a moment later Tico Santi strode into the bar accompanied by two men in suits that looked almost as expensive as his. John left his place by the window and made as if he was heading to the door; an act that put him directly in Santi's path.

"Agent McBain!" Tico said warmly, "Oh I'm sorry, you said not to call you 'agent,' didn't you?"

"John is fine," he nodded, "nice to see you again Mr. Santi."

"How is Natalie?" he asked, "I know Jessica was quite anxious over her before she left."

"Left?" John repeated wondering what this latest development in the Buchanan family soap opera could be.

"Yes, I assumed you would have heard," he said, "she went to London to visit her father."

"Oh," he said, "Natalie doesn't really talk much about her sister."

Tico nodded. "I know there have been some hard feelings between them lately, but I'm hopeful that they can work past them. Just as I continue to hope for reconciliation with my own brother."

John forced a smile of agreement even though he didn't see Natalie reconciling with her sister any time soon and he doubted Tico really wanted to make amends with Antonio. "Natalie's doing better though," he said, "she's out of the hospital."

"Yes, I'd heard," Tico said, "I'd also heard… forgive me if this isn't something you wanted getting around, but I'd heard that you were no longer employed by the FBI."

Inwardly, John smiled; Peterson had leaked it that a review of his case had resulted in his dismissal from the Bureau. Clearly, just as they'd anticipated, one of those leaks had gotten back to Tico Santi. Whatever satisfaction he found knowing his strategy was working so far quickly faded, however, when he saw Natalie walk into the café.

She took a moment to take in John and Tico, whose back was towards her, before making her way over to them. "There you are!" she said smiling broadly at John then planting a kiss on his cheek. "Sorry, I'm late, is that for me?" she asked motioning to the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Um… no," he said, "They were out of decaf." If she was trying to maintain the charade that they were a couple she was laying it on a little thick and, charade or no, he really didn't want her close to Tico Santi.

"Oh well," she sighed, "it doesn't taste the same anyway. Oh hi, Tico."

"Hello, Natalie," he said, turning on his well practiced charm.

"I'm sorry," she said looking back and forth between them, "was I interrupting something?"

John knew that she was perfectly aware that she had and tried to send her signals letting her know she needed to leave. She either missed the signal or decided to ignore it. "Not at all," Tico said, "we were just discussing John's recent, and no doubt undeserved, dismissal from the FBI."

Natalie turned a concerned glance up at John. "What? You didn't tell me about that."

"I didn't want to worry you," he said forcing a smile around his clenched teeth.

"Well…" she said putting her arm around his waist, "I'm sorry to hear about it, I know you loved your job. But if that makes it easier for you to stay here with me and our baby I'm not going to complain too much." John hoped Tico either didn't know Natalie very well or would chalk up her behavior to pregnancy hormones because even he knew that her kittenish behavior was out of character.

"Yeah," he said putting his hand on her back, "I guess there's an upside."

"You know, John," Tico said, "As I said before, I consider us family, in a manner of speaking. It's possible I might be able to find a place for you in one of my companies. Perhaps something in security."

"That's very generous of you," Natalie said eagerly.

"It is," John seconded, gently squeezing her ribs and hoping she would get the hint to stop helping.

"I'm happy to help," Tico purred. Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a business card and handed it to John, "Think it over and give me a call."

"I will," John nodded.

"Natalie," Tico asked turning to her, "have you heard anything from Jessica since she arrived in London?"

"Jessica and I aren't exactly talking," Natalie said blushing, "but my mom said she's having a good time. She hasn't called you?"

"Not yet," Tico said and both John and Natalie could tell he was bothered by this.

"She's probably busy," Natalie said dismissively, "and you know the whole time difference thing—Jess always had a hard time with that so she's probably just afraid of waking you up."

"Probably," he nodded.

"Well we should be going," John said nudging Natalie towards the door.

"Right," she said with a smile, "I have a doctor's appointment. OB check up."

"Well best of luck," Tico said, "to you both."

"Thanks," John called over his shoulder as he pushed Natalie out the door.

Dragging her around the corner of the café he hissed at her, "What the hell was that about?"

"What was I supposed to do?" she asked innocently, "I didn't know you were going to be there, but once I saw you I couldn't very well just pretend I didn't know you. We've been telling everyone in town that we're lovers."

"Santi's back was towards you," he said, "you could have backed out and no one would have ever known you were there."

"I thought one of his bodyguards had seen me," she explained. Shaking his head John released her arm and started to walk down the street toward the hotel. "So you think Tico's taking over the family business?" she asked hurrying after him.

"I can't talk about this with you, Natalie," he said, "This is a federal investigation."

"Fine," she said falling into step beside him, "I won't tell you what I figured out then."

"And what makes you think you figured out anything I haven't already? I've been doing this for a while," he said.

"But you _don't_ know the people involved like I do," she said.

"What exactly _don't_ I know?" he said still shaking his head in annoyance with her.

"Tico's not actually interested in Jessica," she said, "and I don't think Jessica has any intention of marrying him."

"Not that I think this is at all relevant," he said, "but how you figure?"

"First of all, it _is_ relevant," she argued, "and I'll tell you why. If Tico doesn't have a romantic interest in Jessica you have to ask yourself, why _does_ he want to marry her? But as to how I know, think about it John, the whole town knows that Jessica and Cristian were having an affair. Tico knows that most of the time he's been courting my sister she's been sleeping with his cousin. And he's acting like nothing's happened at all. What guy do you know who wouldn't be bothered by that?"

"Point taken," he said brusquely, not wanting to admit this information could be important. Not wanting to encourage her involvement in this case.

"And by the way, Jessica's _not_ in London," she said smugly.

"She's not?" he asked turning to look at her but not pausing.

"No," she said, "I talked to my mom on the phone last night. Jessica checked herself into a hospital in Switzerland. But it sounds to me like she hasn't told Tico any of this—about the DID or where she is."

"Interesting," he said as they walked into the hotel lobby.

"You had no idea about that, did you?" she pressed.

"No, I'll admit it," he said, "I hadn't taken the romance novel approach to this case."

"So what do you think he's up to?" she asked, "With Jess, I mean?"

"Of the many things I care about related to Tico Santi, his romantic exploits are not part of it," he said unlocking the door to their suite.

"Look I know I'm not a professional," she said following him into the room, "but it looks to me like he's just trying to get to Antonio. He knows Jessica can push his buttons. And if Antonio thinks Jessica might be in trouble for some reason there's no telling what he might do."

"Could be," John conceded as he shut and locked the door, "could be he wants to increase his hold over your brother." He knew he shouldn't have said the last part out loud. It slipped out and he could see from the expression on Natalie's face that he had just renewed her interest.

"My brother?" she asked.

"Apparently Tico Santi was a significant contributor to your brother's campaign," he said.

"Really?" she said, "I had no idea. I'm actually really surprised because Kevin's not a choirboy but I would have seen him making deals with gangsters."

"He may not realize that's what Santi is," John said.

"I could talk to him," she offered, "he might tell me something he wouldn't tell you."

He took a step closer to her, meeting her eyes with his own so she would see how serious he was. "Natalie, you're not a part of this investigation. Stay out of it."

"I'm not a part of this investigation?" she repeated incredulous, "everyone in my life is either a suspect or a source on it and you tell me I'm not involved? I'm your freaking cover and you tell me I'm not involved?"

"Not in the investigation, no," he said not flinching, "unless you have a badge somewhere you forgot to show me."

"What's the problem with me helping out?" she pressed.

"The problem is you could get hurt," he said sharply putting his hands on her shoulder, "you could get yourself killed. And the last thing I need is another death on my conscience!"

Without warning Natalie reached up and grabbed his head, yanking his lips down to hers. He knew he shouldn't let her kiss him. Knew he shouldn't kiss her back. But the voices in his head shouting at him to stop were drowned out by the ache in his body that urged him to pull her closer. She tasted so good, felt so right pressed against him… No! He couldn't let this happen. Summoning all of his resistance he pulled out of the kiss and stepped backwards.

"What the hell?" he gasped, surprised to find how out of breath he was, "Is that how you end every argument?"

"Seems to work," she said with a triumphant smile though she was also gasping for air.

He shook his head. "Well you're right. This conversation's over. Stay out of this Natalie!"

"But-"

He stopped her protest with a wave of his hand. "Not up for debate. Stay out of the investigation or we're done."

"We're not anything," she reminded him.

"That's right," he said, "and I'm sure there are some people here in town that would be interested in knowing that."

A look of panic washed over her face and he knew he'd found the only threat that would work on her. Part of him felt guilty for manipulating her like this but if the only way he could keep her safe and out of the line of fire was to threaten to tell the truth about the baby he'd do it. "Fine," she said turning her back to him and taking a few steps away, "I'll back off."

"Thank you," he said. The defeated air of her countenance made him want to go and put his arm around her but in light of that kiss he knew that was a bad idea. "I have some more work to do," he said backing towards the door, "I'll see you later."

Natalie heard the door shut behind him and flopped down on the couch. "What the hell are you doing, Natalie?" she asked out loud. The kiss had just been to shut him up, because she knew it was the one thing guaranteed to throw him off, but when he'd kissed her back she'd felt… Nothing. It was nothing. Just a little bit of physical attraction mixed with the electricity their argument had created and hormones no doubt exaggerated by her pregnancy. She wouldn't let herself get attached to him; _couldn't_ let herself get attached to him. He wasn't interested, he'd made that clear over and over, and even if he had been, he'd lose interest soon enough. They always did.

Unconsciously one of her hands wandered to her lower abdomen. "I'm sorry Mommy's such a head case," she told the baby growing within her, "I'll try to fix that before you get here."

* * *

It was dark before John walked back into the Angel Square Hotel, his arms laden with grocery bags, still feeling somewhat guilty for the tone on which his argument with Natalie had ended. There was no reason he should feel guilty—he was right. She was the one overstepping boundaries, getting involved with the case, kissing him…

Reaching the hallway of their floor he saw a black woman in a designer suit looking around as though she were lost. "Can I help you with something?" he asked.

She turned to him startled. "Yes, actually. You're Agent John McBain, aren't you?"

This was strange, a woman he didn't know asking around for him, but it didn't seem dangerous and he didn't see any point to denying it. "Yeah," he said slowly.

"I'm actually looking for Natalie Vega and I heard she was staying with you," she said.

"That's right," he nodded suspiciously.

"I wasn't sure which room was yours," she said motioning to the doors on the hall.

"Can I ask _why_ you're looking for Natalie?" he asked. This woman, whoever she was, didn't seem threatening but he found it unsettling that she should be up here looking for Natalie in his room.

"My name's Evangeline Williamson," she explained reaching into her purse for a business card, "I'm an attorney."

"Oh," he said, Natalie hadn't said anything to him about having an attorney stop by but then she didn't have any reason to tell him what she was doing. "It's this one right here," he said motioning towards his door, "let me see if she's here. And awake and everything."

John unlocked the door and didn't quite shut it behind him. He set the bags down on the floor and peaked glanced into the bedroom area. Natalie was sitting in bed reading. "There's a lawyer here to see you," he said.

She shot him a questioning look and swung her feet to the ground. Before she could even stand up she froze staring at something. John turned to realize that the woman had followed him into the room. "Mrs. Vega, I'm Evangeline Williamson-"

"I know who you are," Natalie said narrowing her eyes, "And it's actually Ms. Buchanan now."

"Has that actually been legally changed or-?"

"It will be soon enough. What are you doing here?" Natalie demanded marching towards Evangeline.

"I'm representing Cristian Vega both in regard to the criminal charges he's facing and in your divorce proceedings," she explained.

Natalie let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you are. I should have known. Did I do something to you in a past life or something?" she asked, "Is there a particular reason you hate me?"

"I don't hate you Mrs. Vega," she said tilting her head to one side.

John took a step towards Natalie both because he wanted to look supportive and because he was half afraid she'd launch herself at the lawyer in a minute. "I'm missing something," he said.

Natalie turned to him. "She represented my first husband too. The man who raped my mother, tried to have my heart cut out, literally, and generally set out to destroy my family."

"What happened with Mitch Lawrence was regrettable," Evangeline said, "but it has nothing to do with what I'm doing now. I was hired as Mr. Vega's defense attorney and when he received your petition for divorce he asked if I would represent him with that as well." John tried not to let the surprise register on his face; he had no idea Natalie was filing for divorce. Considering Cristian's behavior it shouldn't have shocked him, except that he could tell the other night when Cristian came by that her feelings about him were still conflicted.

"Really?" Natalie said folding her arms over her chest, "Then I ask again, what are you doing here? My lawyer can get you any of the papers you need pertaining to the divorce."

"I actually came to deliver this," she said taking some papers from a file folder in the side pocket of her briefcase.

Natalie took the papers from her, careful not to walk any closer to her than she had to to reach them. She read over the papers for a moment, furrowing her brow as she tried to decipher the legal language. Looking up she said, "Is this some kind of joke? This is a fucking joke, right?"

"I assure you it's not," Evangeline said tersely.

"He's petitioning for a paternity test?" she asked shaking her head. "You can tell him what he can do with his paternity test!"

Evangeline didn't flinch. "If we are going to continue with these divorce proceedings it's imperative that we know if custody rights are going to be an issue."

"Interesting," she said forcing a smile, "last time I talked to your client he was_so_ sure the baby was his."

"For legal purposes we need something more concrete."

"Well we'll just have to wait eight months then," Natalie said tossing the papers on the back of the couch.

"Why would we wait?" she asked, "Why would you even _want _to wait when prenatal paternity tests-?"

"Carry a risk of miscarriage," Natalie interjected, "I've done my research. Has your client? Except of course if the baby's not his he doesn't give a damn whether it lives-"

The lawyer sighed. "The risk is minimal-"

"Minimal?" Natalie repeated angrily, "This is a _baby_ we're talking about--it's not a business venture! I mean, I'll grant you the chances are probably better than the baby surviving its mother getting shot-"

"This is not helpful, Mrs. Vega."

"Buchanan," Natalie said sharply, her eyes on fire. "And any risk is more than I'm willing to take. This baby's been through enough already. You _will_ be hearing from my lawyer."

"Very well then," Evangeline said tilting her head to the other side, "but I urge you to reconsider—I'm sure we all want to put this behind us."

As she turned to go Natalie yelled after her, "And tell your client even if the baby _was_ his, he'd have no chance at custody. Judges don't give babies to fathers who shoot their wives."

Evangeline slammed the door behind her and Natalie immediately turned and punched the wall. John could tell from the sound she'd hit with enough force to hurt her knuckles but she showed no sign of pain and reached back as if she was going to take another punch. "Whoa!" he said grabbing her from behind and pulling her back, "Take it easy, tough guy."

"Let go of me," she said struggling against him but he held her firm.

"Hey, what'd that wall ever do to you?" he asked. She didn't answer as she continued to struggle. "He's not worth the bruised knuckles, Natalie."

She finally stopped struggling and he held her for a moment longer, feeling her breathing heavily against him. "You gonna calm down?" he asked gently in her ear.

"Yeah," she said as he let her shrug off his grasp. She took a few steps back towards the couch and glared at the papers. He heard her voice break as she asked, "Why did he have to hire _her_?"

"There's a lot of bad blood there, huh?" he asked.

"He was there!" she said turning to face him with tears in her eyes, "He was there before. He watched her tear me apart on the witness stand. Watched her defend that monster how could he-"

"I guess he figured it would take someone who could defend a monster to take his case," he said. He'd meant it to be funny, to make her smile, but it didn't work.

Instead she sank down on the couch and asked numbly, "What if he _is_ the baby's father? What am I going to do? He'll never let us go. He'll try to take my baby away from me, he-"

"Hey," John said sitting down beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders, "That's not going to happen. No judge is going to give custody to a guy like that."

"Am I really a much better option?" she asked looking up at him desperately, "Cristian's not the only one who had an affair."

"You got hurt and you acted out," he said gently, "maybe not the best decision but the judge will understand. You didn't have an affair with your husband's brother and then shoot him in a drunken brawl." She tried to say something more but was too choked up and finally just let her head rest against his shoulder. After a moment he asked, "Is that why you don't have to have the paternity test? Because you're afraid of the answer."

"It's a little part of it," she admitted, "but honestly either answer is going to be bad news. It really is mostly what I said. I feel like this baby has already survived against the odds, I don't want to put it through anything else."

"You know how you were worried about not being a good mother?" he asked. She nodded. "This is why I know you'll be great," he said, "The way you're already being protective."

"Maybe," she shrugged, still sounding uncertain.

"Speaking of which," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "I went to the grocery store."

"You did?" she asked as he went to recover the bags he had been carrying earlier.

"I ran into my brother while I was out and he told me that pregnant women can't live on take out alone. Actually he said that no one can live on take out alone, but that's not true because I've been doing it for years."

Natalie giggled a little as he plopped the bags on the coffee table. "So he drug me around the store," he said, "but I have no idea what you like other than mustard on your French fries so…" He began taking items out of the bag. "I got yogurt because it has protein and calcium and bacteria which I always thought was bad but Mikey says it's good for you. And I got peanut butter because… you know, protein. And bread because you have to have something for the peanut butter. And milk, which I know you've been drinking but you need to drink more. And also a few fruit and vegetables and… well I should have gotten more but, like I said, I really don't know what you eat and I only have a microwave for cooking but-"

"John you know you don't have to do this," Natalie said smiling at him.

"Well I figured you can't carry groceries," he said, "I know your shoulder still kinda hurts."

"You don't have to take care of me," she reminded him, "I know I'm just here as a cover."

John started moving things to the mini-fridge. "Well I kinda thought we were becoming friends," he said, "friends can take care of each other, right?"

"I guess so," she conceded.

"So if there's anything you want just let me know and next time I'm out-"

"Pie," she said softly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah pie wasn't exactly one of the things Mike recommended."

"I know," she said with a wistful smile, "it's just one of those things… Ordinarily if you want pie in Llanview the place to go is Carlotta's diner. She has _really _good pie. But I can't exactly go there anymore and… You know how the minute you _can't_ have something it's exactly what you want?"

"Yeah, I know." Lately he'd found himself wanting things he couldn't have in more ways than one.

"And it just makes me so mad that Cristian started this and I'm the one hiding my face," she said, "Why is it still so much worse for a woman to have an affair? Why am I the whore here?"

"You're not," he assured her, "and I never saw you as one to care too much about what other people thought."

"I don't really," she sighed, "I just… I don't know."

"I tell you what," he said straightening up, "you want pie, I'll get you pie."

"John-" she tried to protest.

"Don't argue," he said holding up a hand, "I'll be right back. You stay here and eat some yogurt or something so Michael doesn't yell at me again." Natalie giggled again as he grabbed his keys and wallet and opened the door. If nothing else, he thought, this would be worth it to make her laugh like that again.

To be continued…


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note:** So um... there's a wee bit of smut at the end of this... Yeah, major neurosis over this. I don't write smut. But I really did think it was necessary for the story. If you'd prefer to not read it (it's pretty tame) don' read past the double lines. Part of this chapter (not the smut) was written before almost anything else in this story—in case you were wondering where the title came from, you'll find out in this chapter. Special thanks to Tina for beta-ing the smut and generally being this fic's cheerleader. And thanks to you all for reading and for all your reviews.

* * *

Natalie tossed the core of the apple she'd just finished in the trash and went in the bathroom to wash her hands. She had to admit that eating something other than take out felt good. Glancing at her watch she noted that it had been over an hour since John went out in search of pie; either he'd had to go to another town for the pie or something had come up. Probably there had been some development on his case that took priority over finding pie for his pregnant houseguest. 

She sat down on the couch telling herself that she didn't mind. It was just pie. But it wasn't the pie that had her feeling giddy inside. As much as she wanted to believe the flutters in her stomach were just her body adjusting to the pregnancy she knew they had a lot more to do with John. She groaned in frustration with herself. The last thing she wanted or needed right now was another man in her life. Sure John had done a lot for her and she trusted him enough to sleep in the same room with him, but no further. She wasn't about to trust her heart to someone who would only break it again.

Like Cristian.

She thought back over Evangeline Williamson's visit. First thing tomorrow she'd call her lawyer and make sure she could refuse the paternity test; there was no way in hell she was taking any risk with her baby over him. Eventually the truth would have to come out though; she wouldn't let her baby grow up like she had, not knowing who its parents were.

Remembering what she'd been like when she first came to Llanview—so angry and full of hate, she shivered. It had taken Cristian to get her past all that; he'd been so caring, so supportive. If she needed any further reminders why _not_ to let herself get attached to John McBain, that was all she had to remember—Cristian had been wonderful once too.

But then… he'd never gone out at night just to get her pie. Cristian had been great with the grandiose gestures—saving her from Mitch Lawrence or painting a picture to propose to her, but he never understood the value of the tiny day to day things.

The phone in the hotel room rang. Natalie wasn't sure whether she should answer it; it could be someone calling for John. But she reasoned it wasn't a secret that she was staying there so she might as well. "Hello?"

"You still want that pie?" She smiled in spite of herself at the sound of his voice.

"John, you don't really have to-" she tried to tell him but he cut her off.

"I know I don't have to, but the thing is," he said, she could hear the smile in his voice, "I'm sitting here with two of them and-"

"Where are you?" she asked.

"I'm up on the roof," he said, "kinda wondered if you might like to join me."

Natalie opened the door to the roof to find John sitting on a worn blanket surrounded by pillows, a couple of pastry boxes and plastic utensils. "What's this?" she asked looking around.

"You said you wanted pie," he shrugged.

"And there's a reason we couldn't just eat it in the room?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well," he said, "you also mentioned how you were sick of hiding your face. And it sounded like maybe you were going a little stir crazy. And it's a nice night, so I thought why not eat it out under the stars?"

Natalie looked up at the sky; it _was_ a beautiful night. "Yeah, okay," she said.

"And besides," he continued, "you know, in my family pie was always for special occasions. You know, Thanksgiving, Christmas… So I thought if we're going to have pie, it has to be a special occasion."

"Special occasion, huh? Where did you get all this stuff?" she said walking over towards the blanket and nudging one of the pillows with her foot.

"I borrowed it from an unlocked supply closet on the first floor," he admitted with a smile.

"You stole it?" she asked holding in a laugh.

"Well when the FBI does it we call it 'requisitioning,'" he said solemnly.

"I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it," she said sitting down beside him, "but why are you doing this?"

He shrugged. "You were having a bad day. Seems like you've had a couple… fifty bad days lately. And Michael told me the stress wasn't good for your baby. And I thought maybe it would be good for you to just take a night and watch the stars and eat pie."

"You're not in Llanview to help me de-stress," she reminded him, "I know you have work to do."

"Not tonight," he said shaking his head, "I have somewhere I have to be tomorrow morning-"

"The job Tico offered you?" she said. He gave her a warning look and she backed off saying, "Sorry. I know it's not my business."

"No, it's not," he said, "but now that you mention it I _did _make a big step in this case today, so I figure I deserve to celebrate too."

"Okay," she said and he could see her body language already relaxing, "what did you get?" She reached over and started opening the boxes.

"Well it took me a little bit to find a grocery store with a good selection. And I didn't think to ask what kind of pie you wanted," he said, "so I got cherry and chocolate. Girls like chocolate, right?"

"Everyone likes chocolate," she said smiling back at him.

They sat for the next while eating pie off of plates they'd improvised by tearing the box tops. Lounging on the pillows they shared stories of growing up in AC and the twisted paths that had landed them both in Llanview. At one point John glanced over at Natalie's "plate" and noticed she had somehow wound up with a pile of cherry filling devoid of crust.

"What happened to your crust?" he asked.

"I ate it," she said.

"But you left behind all the filling," he pointed out.

"Yeah I know," she laughed.

"You don't like cherry filling?"

"I love it," she said, "but I eat them in order."

"Why would you do that?" he asked pretending to be shocked by her behavior.

"I don't know," she said, "I just do."

"I don't know if I want to sit by you anymore," he said acting as though he were going to edge away from her, "you're a freak."

Natalie laughed and said, "I always liked the filling better. So I eat the crust first, get it out of the way, and then what's left is kind of like my reward."

"Hmm," he said thinking that over, "I kind of like that. That's like a life philosophy right there."

"A philosophy on pie?" she asked.

"No, you know, get through the not so good stuff so you can get to the best part."

"Yeah I guess so," she said softly. She was silent for a moment before standing and walking to the edge of the roof. She stood with her hands on the brick wall that outlined the border of the roof and said, "You remember the last time we were up here?"

"Yeah," he said. He remembered all too well that night when she'd told him she wanted to end her life. Remembered well enough that he wasn't entirely comfortable with her standing so close to the edge. But she seemed better now—more stable; she wasn't going to throw herself off the roof, so despite the instinct to yank her back, he stayed put.

"You saved my life that night," she said gazing out at the lights of Llanview.

"You said you'd already changed your mind before I got there," he reminded her.

"I said I'd figured out I was too much of a coward to throw myself off the roof," she said, "I didn't say I'd decided I wanted to live. Before you showed up I had every intention of going home and taking a handful of pills. Cristian has a bottle of painkillers from when he hurt his hand a while back and he never took many of them. I'm pretty sure there would have been enough of them left to do the trick."

He felt somewhat stunned by her revelation; he really had no idea his words that night had any impact on her, much less one like she was describing. "I had no idea," he finally said.

"I know," she said turning to face him. Standing on her tiptoes she positioned herself so that she was sitting on the ledge. "That's why I wanted to tell you. To thank you. Because screwed up as my life is right now I'm glad I'm here to live it. And because I thought you deserved to know that you saved a life that night."

"Doesn't make up for all the ones I haven't." He hadn't meant to say that out loud, and he wasn't even sure he had until he saw Natalie's face react to his statement and heard her next words.

"You mean like Caitlyn?" she asked gently.

He didn't want to talk about this. Particularly with her of all people. With the woman who he'd let get closer than any woman since Caitlyn. Much closer than he should have let her get. So instead he changed the subject. "Can you do me a favor and come away from there?" he asked, standing up and making his way towards her.

She wrinkled her forehead, confused by his request. "I'm not going to jump," she assured him.

"I know," he said as he reached her, "but I'm not sure how steady that wall looks."

Natalie studied his face and smiled as she asked, "Are you afraid of heights?"

"No," he said.

"You are!" she said triumphantly, pleased with herself for uncovering this weakness he so obviously wanted to hide.

He shook his head. "Fear of heights is fear of falling. I'm not afraid of falling, I'm afraid of _you_ falling."

"If I started to fall would you catch me?" she asked.

"Do you really have to ask?" he shot back meeting her eyes.

She shook her head slowly. "I don't," she said, "I know you would do everything in your power to save me. Just like I'm sure you did with Caitlyn."

He turned away at the sound of her name; he couldn't take reassurance about Caitlyn from a woman who had nearly ended up the same way because once again he failed to see the danger she was in. Natalie followed him back to the middle of the rooftop and asked, "Why do you think Caitlyn's death is your fault?"

"Because it is," he said turning back to her. He took a deep breath and sat back down on the blanket; Natalie sat beside him patiently waiting for him to continue. As much as he didn't want to talk about this, he told himself she needed to hear this. She needed to understand so she would know better than to trust him to protect her and her baby. "I was working a serial killer case, this was a little over five years ago. We'd been working it for months and we had a good profile of the guy but it wasn't getting us anywhere. The only way we were going to catch him was if he slipped up. So I gave a press conference and I tried to make him slip up. I tried to provoke him. And I did. I led him straight to my house. Straight to her. He shot her right in front of me and then he shot me. Then he made it look like a robbery and disappeared all together."

"You're sure it was him?" she asked, "I mean, maybe it _was_ just a robbery."

"I wish," he said fighting to hold back the tears, "but he told me otherwise. Apparently the game was too fun so he followed me to Philly. He knew I'd get assigned to his case and when I did he started taunting me. Left her driver's license in my apartment, just so I'd know he was the one who'd taken her purse that night."

"Did you catch him?" she asked, not flinching at all at the information he'd just given her.

"Yeah," he said trying to be happy about it, "I caught him. But a lot of women had to die before I managed to do that."

"Including the one you loved," she said.

He nodded. "There are no guarantees, you know? If you were leaning on that ledge and it started to crumble I'd try to catch you, but who's to say I'd be able to?"

"You're right about that," she said hugging herself, "no guarantees. You can't count on anyone."

"You're thinking about Cristian now," he said more than asked.

She nodded. "Maybe I'm just fooling myself, but I really do think he loved me in the beginning. But I guess it wasn't enough."

"It isn't always like that," he said, wanting to reassure her somehow.

"It's weird," she said lying back on the pillows behind her, "Cristian made me a better person. And believe me, when he met me there was plenty of room for improvement. I was bitter and vengeful and I didn't care who I hurt. And I really am grateful for the way he helped me change. But you're the first guy who's ever made me feel like it was okay to just be me. The first guy I ever felt completely comfortable with."

"I'm not saying change is bad," he said easing himself down beside her, "all of us have room for improvement. But I don't think you should change for other people. It really has to be for yourself. And for the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with the person you are."

"Maybe," she said, "but why are you the one telling me that and not my husband?"

"I thought maybe that was why he was your soon to be ex-husband," he said with a smile.

"I guess," she said turning her head to face him, "but what I'm really trying to say here is… you're an amazing guy, John. So rather than just dwelling on the mistakes you think you've made in the past, maybe you should focus on what you're doing now. You have done so much for me even though you really didn't have any reason to. You've made me see life is worth living when all I wanted to do was die. And I think… I think if I still had a heart… If it hadn't been completely destroyed… I think I'd consider giving it to you."

He pressed up on one elbow so he could look at her more carefully. Why did his heart jump when she told him that? Reaching out with one hand he brushed a lock of hair back from her face. There was an energy when their skin touched that he hadn't felt in years, but he couldn't give into that. Not ever again. "I know what you mean," he nodded, "sometimes I think… I think maybe if we'd met before. If I was still capable of loving someone that way... I think I could fall in love with you."

Natalie bit her lip and was quiet for a moment, he could see she was fighting back tears. Finally she said, "You know how you said fear of heights is fear of falling?"

"That's what the shrinks say," he nodded.

"Well someone told me once it isn't fear of falling, it's fear of jumping."

He thought over the words but couldn't make sense of them. "I don't understand," he said.

"Falling's an accident," she explained, "something that happens _to_ you, something beyond your control. And that's scary, but it's so much more scary to think of jumping—the things you can willingly do to yourself. So you say you don't think you can fall in love again, I don't think falling's your problem. I think you're scared of jumping. You're scared of the stupid things you might do if you let yourself loose control."

"I'm scared that I might have already done something stupid," he said.

"You mean getting involved with me?" she asked.

"Letting you get involved with me," he clarified. "Bringing you here, spending all this time with you, I think it was a mistake."

"And what about this?" she asked reaching up to touch his face, "is this a mistake?" With a gentle motion she pulled his lips down to meet her own. If he was honest, she didn't have to pull very hard—he wanted her to kiss him. A big part of him had been wanting to kiss her since she sat down beside him at the start of the evening. Moving of its own volition his tongue plunged into her mouth, exploring it, swirling with her tongue. He could taste the lingering flavors of chocolate and cherries. He knew he should stop but his body wouldn't let him even attempt to.

She was the one who finally broke the kiss. Biting her lower lip she looked up at him and asked breathlessly, "Well John, was that a mistake?"

He sat up, trying to put enough distance between their flesh for him to think clearly. "Natalie-" he began in a hoarse voice.

Suddenly Natalie sat up as well and then rose to her feet. "Don't bother. You've given me the speech enough times already. We can't. It's too dangerous-"

"It is!" he said sharply.

"Dangerous how?" she asked, "Dangerous because of the case or because you might be forced to admit you aren't as frozen inside as you like to pretend? To admit that you have feelings for me? That you want me as bad as I want you?"

He saw her start towards the door and realized that he was on his feet as well. He didn't know what was happening or what he was doing, all he could think was that if he let her reach that door, this night would be over, and he wasn't ready for that.

In three steps he had her within reach and circling his left arm around her waist he pulled her body back against his own. She didn't struggle but he could feel her body trembling slightly. There couldn't be any denials anymore—he knew that flush against him as she was she could feel his desire for her a little too clearly.

Natalie fought to regain her senses; kissing him had become a game, but it was one she had always controlled. He was in control now and she had to stop that. If he controlled the situation he had the power to hurt her. She couldn't let him do that. "John…" She began to say something but the words were lost when he brought his right hand between her legs to cup her gently. Heedless of any caution she tried to maintain her body arched into his touch, letting him know it was not unwelcome. Nuzzling her neck, his stubble scratching at the sensitive skin, he slid his hand up her body then down her stomach and inside of her jeans and panties.

* * *

_Smut starts here_

* * *

She gasped at suddenly feeling his callused fingers parting the soft folds of flesh; shocked at how slick with desire they already were. She couldn't think; there was only room in her mind to register his left arm holding her tightly against him, the delicious rasping of his face brushing against her own. Wanting to feel even more she unbuttoned the top of her jeans and lowered the zipper so that he would have more room to maneuver and suddenly he was inside her.

At the pressure of his hand she widened her stance obediently as his fingers probed and pinched and thrust into her and all the while he restrained her with his other arm. Her hands sought desperately for a hold, her left finally covering the arm that held her in place, her nails digging slightly into flesh as his right hand continued working so skillfully between her legs. Her own right arm circled around behind his neck, pulling his face closer to hers. She turned her head to the side, grasping with her lips and teeth at his chin and neck—needing to touch him, to repay him for the jolts of pleasure he was sending through her body but unable to turn to touch or even see the rest of him. She pressed her lower body more firmly against his hand as two fingers thrust rhythmically in and out of her body.

Desperately she tried to find the words to tell him that she wanted more. More than just his fingers inside of her, but she couldn't catch her breath enough to form coherent sound. Whimpering with delight and need while his fingers worked on her relentlessly she pushed her body back against him more forcefully. She could feel his erection against her lower back and she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him. No matter what he might try to say later.

Before she could steady her thoughts she felt the muscles around his fingers start to spasm and her legs go limp. She would have fallen if it weren't for his left arm which still held her steady as the orgasm ripped through her body. As she slowly came back to her senses he gently eased her body down to the ground.

John lowered her down to her back as he sucked his fingers clean, tasting her desire for him, making it as palpable as his desire for her. She was still breathing heavily as she relaxed back against the concrete underneath her. He should have carried her over to the blanket, he thought, but he knew neither of their bodies was going to tolerate even the slightest delay.

Leaning over her he touched the side of her face; if possible she was even more beautiful like this, still in the throes of delirium. He could tell from watching her that she had surrendered entirely to her body and the sensations they were creating between them. He didn't want to fight it anymore either. Leaning down over her he kissed her deeply and her body arched impatiently up against him. His right hand began exploring the contours of her body while hers ran over his chest, tugging at his shirt.

He raised himself up above her again, planning on freeing her of some of her access clothing. He wanted to know the body they obscured as well as he knew the blue eyes hidden underneath her heavy lids. But as he looked down at her again he saw her face splattered with blood, heard the gunshot in his brain, saw her eyes glaze over with death instead of desire.

Inhaling sharply he sat back. Natalie noticed his change in demeanor immediately and her eyes flew open as she rose up to sitting. "John?" she asked reaching out for him but he flinched away from her touch. "John?" she repeated, hurt by his sudden withdrawal.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, "I can't."

"What?" she demanded. He couldn't be stopping now, she was misunderstanding, there had to be another meaning.

"Natalie," he said unable to look at her. Not able to bear what his actions were going to do. "I'm sorry. We can't-"

"Are you serious?" she asked, softly, "You're stopping _now_?"

"I shouldn't have let it go this far," he said staring down at the concrete, "I-"

"You're a fucking coward, just like I said," she spat at him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated helplessly. He knew he was hurting her, knew she felt rejected, but he'd rather she feel hurt and hate him than wind up dead.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, "I don't turn on and off as fast as you do." She stood up, closing the front of her jeans self-consciously as she made for the door once again.

"Natalie!" he called after her, his voice catching on the lump in his throat. But this time she didn't stop. He saw her silhouetted momentarily against the light of the stairwell and then she was gone.

To be continued…

**Author's note:** Don't hate me for the way it ended. Blame John.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note:** Thanks to everyone for their very encouraging feedback on the last chapter. And thanks for not holding the ending against me. This chapter might seem a little anticlimactic (bad word choice?) but I hope you'll stay with me. More excitement and more Jolie in store, I promise. I apologize if Natalie and Rex's conversation is a little crass, but it was necessary.

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John stared at the door to the hotel. He'd been standing there for more than a minute trying to talk himself into going in. Strange—he'd spent the day learning the ropes of security at Tico Santi's warehouses; warehouses he was fairly certain were thin fronts for the Santi smuggling operation. Undercover work was dangerous; he knew that if he were found out Santi would have him killed without a moment's hesitation.

And yet no part of his job terrified him as much as going up to his room and facing Natalie.

After her angry departure from the roof the night before he'd lingered on the roof for another hour and a half hoping to guarantee that she'd be asleep before he came in. She was. And he left early in the morning before she woke up. Actually, he was fairly certain he heard her stirring while he was getting ready, but she pretended to be asleep and that spared them the unpleasantness of confrontation.

At 6:00 in the evening, however, they were going to be hard pressed to find a way around facing each other. Reminding himself that he'd faced armed criminals with less hesitation than this, John forced himself to walk into the hotel. He made his way up the stairs and was surprised to find the door to his room standing open. As he reached it he nearly collided with a young blond man. John recognized him as Rex, Natalie's brother, the man who'd tipped him off about the Santi drug shipment when he first arrived.

"Hi," Rex said awkwardly swinging a bag over his shoulder.

John looked deeper into the room to see Natalie standing in the room with a deer in the headlights look. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Rex is back in town," she said clearing her throat, "I'm going to move in with him."

"What?" he asked, disbelieving.

"I'm sorry, I meant to be gone before you got home from work, but I spent the whole day with my lawyer making sure we could block this paternity test petition-"

"How did that go?" he asked.

"Great," she said, "he doesn't think it'll be a problem at all. And even if the baby does turn out to be Cristian's, he doesn't think I'll have a problem keeping custody."

"That's good," he nodded.

"Anyway," she said, "I'll be out of here in a second."

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Rex spoke up, "staying with her own brother versus a guy she barely knows? Who do you think you are to-?"

"Rex," Natalie cut him off with a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to do this," John said meeting her eyes for a moment.

"Yes, I do," she said solemnly.

He took a couple of steps closer to her, speaking softly in the hopes her brother wouldn't listen in, "Can we talk about this?"

Turning to her brother, Natalie said, "Rex could you-?"

Getting her meaning before she could even finish her request he nodded. "I'll take this down to the car," he said motioning to her bag, "come down whenever you're ready."

"Thank you," she said softly.

After Rex left, John stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something but she didn't. She appeared to be waiting for him to talk. "If this is about last night-" he finally began.

"It is," she said, "but not _just_ last night. There's a bigger issue here."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I don't think I can stay here, be beside you constantly, and not keep wanting what almost happened last night to happen," she admitted, "and unless you're going to tell me that's a possibility-"

"It can't happen, Natalie," he said, pleading with her to let this go, but not go away. He could settle for not having all of her, but he didn't know if he could handle not having her at all. "It's not that I don't want it to, but-"

"You're probably right," she said, "It's probably a bad idea. And that's why I have to leave."

"Natalie, I'm sorry," he said.

"I know you are," she said biting her lower lip, "but that doesn't change anything. And John, I don't know exactly what's wrong with you, but you have some kind of… issue. And I don't know if you've noticed but I'm a bit of a mess myself."

"You're just going through a tough time," he assured her shaking his head.

"I_am_ going through a tough time," she agreed, "and that's why I'm not going to be able to stay here with you and help you sort out whatever this is. "

"Right," he said trying to steady his breath. Why did it feel like the air had gone from the room? "You shouldn't have to."

"I need to think about myself and my baby right now."

"I understand."

"Like I said, John," she said dabbing a tear from the corner of her eye, "I really wish we'd met some other time."

"Yeah," he said. Part of him wished the same thing, but he told himself that just because Caitlyn's death had alerted him to the danger, didn't mean it wasn't there before. If they'd met earlier, she could have been the one Haver shot in his bed. So he did the only thing he could and switched back to business mode. "I… As far as everyone else is concerned, what should we say?"

"I figured we'd say that in light of officially starting divorce proceedings from Cristian, I decided it was better for us to take things slow. So I'm moving in with Rex, but we're still figuring out things between us and you still want to be part of your baby's life."

"Sounds good," he said, she'd clearly given this some thought. "If it's going to be convincing we're going to have to see each other from time to time."

"Yeah," she nodded, "if you want to get together to play pool… eat pie…"

"Yeah okay," he said, "and if you need anything, anything at all, you give me a call."

"I will," she assured him, "but Rex will take good care of me."

"Good," he said.

"I'll see you later, John."

"I'll see you," he repeated, "take care."

There was an awkward moment as she went to make her way to the door. Neither of them knew whether they should hug or shake hands. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her and hope that his body could say the things his words would never be able to. But that was probably the worst thing he could do at that moment so instead they flashed each other shy smiles and she walked from the hotel room without touching him again.

When she was gone, he shut the door behind her and sank down on the couch. The room already felt so empty without her; he told himself that was all in his head—she hadn't been here that long, she hadn't had much stuff here, the room was the same as it had been before. But his heart kept refusing to listen to his brain. He missed her.

Burying his face in his hands he thought back over the events of the past night. Not even alcohol had ever made him take complete leave of his senses as he had for a few moments that night, powered only be pie and Natalie's presence. When she went to leave, something in him snapped and he had to let her know how he felt. He'd never be able to do it with words, so for a moment he let his body take over and he tried to show her the pleasure that her presence, her smile, her touch brought to him.

If it hadn't been for that flashback, nothing would have stopped him from making love to her. Making love. Such a strange phrase. It wasn't love. It couldn't be. He didn't love anymore. Because love could destroy you; it had happened to him when Caitlyn died and he'd watched it happen to Natalie courtesy of Cristian's affair. The last thing either of them needed in their lives was love.

* * *

By the time Natalie got to Rex's car she had tears streaming down her face. "You okay?" he asked although he knew it was a stupid question—obviously she wasn't.

"I'm fine," she sniffled. He simply looked at her, making it clear he didn't believe her for one second. "I'm fine!" she repeated a little more emphatically, "I just… it's just hormones. You know how us pregnant women are."

Rex was still fairly convinced there was more to it than she was saying, but this didn't seem the time to argue, so he started the car and drove them to his apartment.

"Thank you so much for letting me stay here," she said as he opened the door.

"Well don't thank me too much yet," he said setting her bag down, "you haven't tried to take a shower here. The hot water doesn't last very long."

"I don't mind," she said. Sitting down on the couch she said, "I guess it would be too much to hope that this thing makes out into a bed?"

"It would," he said, "although it's pretty comfortable. But you don't need to worry about it anyway—you're taking the bed."

Natalie shook her head, "No Rex. I can't ask you for anything else."

"Well I can't let my pregnant sister who's recovering from a gunshot wound sleep on the couch," he said pretending to be shocked at the suggestion, "what kind of brother would I be?"

"You're the best brother ever," Natalie said her eyes misting a little again.

Rex sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulder, "Well you're the only sister I have, so you can pretty much ask me for anything. I just wish you'd come to me sooner."

"You were busy," she said looking down.

"I'm serious Nattie," he said gently, "Why didn't you tell me about the baby? And why didn't you tell me about Cristian from the start?"

She shrugged uneasily. "I don't know. I couldn't really tell anyone. I was so humiliated."

"So you did the logical thing and went to bed with Paul Cramer?" Rex asked. Natalie glared at him a little for bringing Paul up. "You know when he first told me, I thought for sure he was lying."

"I wish," Natalie groaned. Then her brain fully processed what Rex had said, "Wait, Paul told you?"

"Yeah," he said uneasily as he realized his slip, "he was looking for leverage on me."

"For what?"

"It's not important," he said, "He doesn't have it anymore because everyone knows now. But before, he was threatening to go public. Said he had the power to ruin your life."

"Yeah, I managed to do that on my own," she sighed. "But why did Paul want leverage on you, Rex?"

"He wanted my help with something."

Natalie twisted slightly so she could look him in the eye, "You're not working with him again."

"No," he said quickly, "after what happened with you? Are you kidding?"

"Good," she said relaxing slightly.

"I'm glad you're done with him though," he said, "he's mixed up with stuff you don't want any part of, believe me."

"I think that was the draw," she said thoughtfully, "I mean it helped that my husband was more interested in my sister than me and this other guy was showering me with attention. But I think it was really all about messing up as bad as I possibly could."

"So what's the draw to this McBain guy?" he asked. He could tell from the look on his sister's face that he'd struck a nerve but he wasn't ready to give up yet. "What's the story with you two anyway?"

Natalie took a deep breath and took her brother by the hand. "Rex," she said soberly, "what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room. You can't tell anyone at all no matter what."

"Okay," he nodded solemnly.

"John and I aren't really lovers," she said.

"Well duh!" Rex said, "I could tell that from watching you two together. The unresolved sexual tension between you guys was so thick I practically had to swim out of his room. If you guys had slept together it wouldn't have been nearly so awkward."

"It_is_ pretty awkward," she said.

"So what's the deal? Why's he pretending to be the babydaddy?"

"Because I asked him to," she said, "Well, I announced it in the hospital before asking him, but he agreed to go along with the story till I can sort things out with Cris and Paul."

Rex was quiet for a moment then he said, "I think I probably need to confess something myself at this point."

"What's that?"

"You remember that night at UV when I was with you and he showed up and you noticed that we recognized each other?"

"Yeah," Natalie said thinking back.

"Sometimes when money's a little tight I pick up extra cash being a profession rat?"

"Huh?" she asked not understanding his statement.

"An informant," he said, "for the FBI. And the last time I informed it was to your fake babydaddy."

"Yeah, John's with the FBI," she nodded, not knowing how much she should say, "everyone knows that."

"Yeah, but this was after he came to Llanview," Rex said, "After he was supposedly suspended if the rumor mill can be trusted."

"Oh," Natalie said.

"He's not really suspended, is he?" Rex asked, "He's working a case. The Santis?"

"You can't tell anyone," Natalie said sternly.

Rex held up his hand, "Hey, it would be just as bad for me if any more about this whole thing came out. So he's using you as part of his cover?"

"It's a give and take thing," she said, "We're helping each other."

"But that's not all of it," Rex pressed, knowing from his sister's reaction that this was far more than a convenient business arrangement.

Natalie let out an angry noise in the back of her throat and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm such an idiot, Rex!"

"No you're not," he said patting her arm, "you might have terminally bad taste in men but I don't think you're an idiot."

"I mean what am I thinking? First a philanderer then a criminal then… someone who seems to have more issues than me."

"So you _do_ have a thing for this guy?" Rex clarified.

"Yeah," she grudgingly admitted.

"Okay, what are we looking at here? School girl crush? A bit of hero worship? Mad crazy lust?"

"Insanity," Natalie answered.

"Oohh," Rex said knowingly, "so… you're falling for him."

"Maybe," she said pitifully, "but I can't be. I mean this is the worst timing in the world. Why would I?"

"Because the heart doesn't wait for it to be a good time. I mean it would have been better for me to realize I was in love with Jen _while_ I was married to her but-"

"Rex, please don't use me in a metaphor involving Jen Rappaport," Natalie pleaded sounding nauseated.

"Okay," he said smiling a bit at her reaction, "why don't you just tell me everything that's happened?"

Natalie took a deep breath and settled more comfortably on the couch. "You remember that night at Ultraviolet you saw me kiss him in the alley?"

He nodded. "You said it was just to throw him off."

"And it was, mostly," she said, "only it wasn't the first time I'd kissed him. And well, the night before we'd almost done a little more than kissing."

"Really?" Rex asked; that part he hadn't guessed.

"On the pool table at Rodi's," she nodded.

"Damn, Nattie," he said, "I don't know whether to be impressed or grossed out."

"Well he stopped it. Said I was just doing it to get back at Cristian and he was right. I mean I was attracted to him, but that was it. It didn't really go any further. But then when I found out I was pregnant and I just wanted to die… well it's a long story but I wound up talking to him. And he was so great and supportive," Natalie's eyes started tearing up at the memory of that night.

"You think that's where it started?" Rex asked gently.

She thought. "Maybe. I don't know. All I know is after I got shot and he kept coming to see me. And then I moved in with him. And somewhere along the way I realized I was feeling a little more than just a physical attraction to him."

"Does he know?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," she said flushing slightly at the recollection of what had happened the night before.

"This would be why you're staying here now?" Rex guessed.

"Sort of," she explained. "Yesterday I had this fight with Cristian's lawyer. And I was pretty upset and I think he was trying to cheer me up. So he went out to the grocery store and bought me pie because I mentioned that I missed the pie from the diner."

"This guy's good," he noted.

Natalie closed her eyes. "Can you let me finish the story? So we were up on the rooftop eating pie and talking. And the talk got pretty heavy. I don't know, I just really felt like we were connecting and I kissed him."

"I take it this time it wasn't to rattle him?"

"No," she said, "and he kissed me back Rex, I'm sure of that. But then I kind of asked him about it and he didn't answer so I went to leave."

"And?" he prompted when she didn't continue immediately.

"And he stopped me," she said not sure if she wanted to go into detail with her younger brother.

"How so?" he asked. Natalie gave him a look that answered his question well enough. "Oh," he said, "but you said you weren't lovers."

"Well we didn't make it quite that far," she said, "almost. I mean I guess it depends on your definition."

Rex winced slightly. "Okay, I'm not sure if I really want to know this about my sister, but what are we talking about here? He couldn't deliver? Only concerned with himself?"

"No," she said quickly, "nothing like that. I mean he could have, that much I'm pretty sure of. And… I guess if you look at it objectively the night ended better for me than for him, but-"

"You mean-?"

"How much detail do you want?" she asked smiling a little bit at the absurdity of their conversation despite the somewhat painful memory of the night before.

"I think I have enough to get the general idea," he said, "so why'd you stop?"

"I didn't," she said, "he did. He just pulled away all of a sudden."

"Wow," Rex said sounding somewhat stunned by this revelation, "this guy has it bad for you."

"I don't follow," Natalie said, "I tell you a guy doesn't want to make love to me when I make it very clear I'm interested and you say he's got it bad for me?"

He turned so he could look at his sister more directly. "I don't know if I can really explain this to you… I think maybe you have to be a guy to understand what a big deal it is for a guy to… make sure the girl has a good time without following through for himself… it's just… I mean Nattie from what I'm gathering this guy willingly gave himself blue balls for you. We don't generally do that."

She grimaced at his last statement. "So his refusal to actually have sex with me-"

"Indicates you're more than just sex to him," Rex said. "I don't know him well enough to know why exactly he thought having sex with him would be bad for you, but-"

"He says it's dangerous," she sighed, "his fiancée was murdered a few years ago and he blames himself."

"And considering you were shot not too long ago maybe it's bringing up memories," he suggested.

"So what do I do?"

He shrugged, "I really can't help you there."

"You guys are all screwy in the head," she said swatting him gently on the arm.

"Pretty much," he nodded, "you should swear us off. Get a cat instead."

* * *

John sat down at the bar of the nightclub. Michael had recommended it a while ago—said it played good jazz music. He'd been too busy to go until now and truthfully he probably shouldn't be there now, but he couldn't stay in his room any longer. Trying to get any work done in there was pointless—he couldn't get Natalie out of his head.

He stared a the beer in front of him—he'd used alcohol plenty of times to get Caitlyn out of his head and he wasn't at all above using it to get Natalie out of his system. He just wasn't sure it would work.

"Agent McBain?" a female voice asked as a strong, musky perfume encircled him. He turned to see Cristian's lawyer, Evangeline Williamson, settling on the stool next to him. "Can I talk to you?"

To be continued…


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note:** Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter, it really keeps me going.

* * *

John glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to his beer. "About what?"

"I doubt you really have to ask," she said. She waited as though expecting some sort of response but when she didn't receive one she continued, "I heard that Mrs. Vega moved out of your hotel room today."

"My understanding is that she prefers Ms. Buchanan these days."

"So it's true?" she pressed.

John sighed; whatever her source was it was accurate. "Yes, it's true," he said.

"So I take it the two of you are no longer involved," she said.

He turned to her and smiled slightly. "I thought a fancy attorney like yourself would know what assuming does. Natalie has been going through a rough time, mostly thanks to your client, and we just decided for her sake it's better not to rush into anything. But we're still 'involved' and I plan to be very involved in my child's life."

"If it is your child," she said with a smug smile.

John turned back to his beer, not willing to rise to the argument over the baby's paternity she was trying to provoke. "Where'd you hear this anyway?" he asked as he took a swallow, "it _just_ happened. Do you have someone following Natalie?"

"It's a small town, small hotel," she said leaning a little closer to him, "you'd be surprised at how fast word travels."

John motioned to the bartender for another beer, hoping the lawyer would take the hint and leave. No such luck. She edged even closer and said in a coy voice, "And don't think I didn't notice the way you changed the subject when I brought up the baby's paternity. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

So that was the real purpose of this discussion. "The test?" he said.

"Natalie's lawyer is trying to block the test," she said.

"I know," he said, "I don't think you can legally force a woman to risk the life of her unborn child."

"The risk is incredibly slight," she protested.

"Well it's more than she's willing to take," he said.

"But surely this must be bothering you too," she said, "You're putting on a nice show but you know there's no way to be sure this baby is yours."

"Natalie says she's sure," he said, "I trust the mother's intuition."

"You trust the word of a woman who was sexually involved with three men at the same time," she said.

"If you're here to trash her-" he began angrily but she held up a hand in surrender.

"I just meant, surely you would like proof," she said.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't mind," he said, "but I don't mind waiting a few months for verification either."

She stared at him for a moment; he didn't know her well enough to be certain but he suspected she was frustrated with his failure to react the way she'd hoped. "You'll forgive my confusion, but I don't understand how you can be so calm about this issue. Unless you know something I don't."

John could tell she was suspicious and the last thing he needed was for this woman to jeopardize his investigation by searching for more information on him. Not to mention what could happen to Natalie if the truth got out before she was ready. "Because it doesn't matter," he said, "whether this baby is biologically mine or not, it doesn't change the way I feel about it or Natalie."

Evangeline looked even more thrown by that response. "Wow," she said, "that's an admirable attitude. But if you happen to change your mind-"

"Why do you care," he cut her off, sick of this conversation, "the way I feel about the whole thing shouldn't really be relevant in the divorce proceedings."

"It would give the petition more sway if all three potential fathers agreed," she said. Something changed in her face and he realized she'd just said something she hadn't meant to. Suddenly the answer to another nagging question snapped into focus.

"You've already talked to Cramer," he said.

"Mr. Cramer is concerned," she said, "like Mr. Vega he wants to know whether this child is his. He has a right to-"

"Small hotel…" he said repeating her earlier words. "Cramer's the one who told you Natalie moved out."

"I don't really see how that's relevant," she snapped.

"You've got Paul Cramer spying for you?" he asked.

"It happened to come up during our conversation a short time ago," she said sullenly.

"Interesting," John said nodding slowly, "Just be careful. I'm not sure Paul Cramer is really who an ambitious attorney wants to be connected to."

"Anyway," she said tensely as she put a business card on the bar in front of him, "I should go. But if you change your mind, please give me a call."

* * *

Natalie was watching television when her phone rang. Rex had gone to Ultraviolet and wouldn't be back till after midnight so she was hoping the fluffy sitcoms would distract her enough to keep her mind off John for a little while. They weren't working. When she saw his name on the caller ID she seriously thought about not answering but decided that would be immature. "Hello?" she said tensely.

"Hey," his voice still made her pulse quicken a little, "I just wanted to give you a heads up—I just ran into Cristian's lawyer."

"Yeah?" she said anxiously.

"She tried to get me to back Cristian on the paternity test. I refused but it seems that Cramer already agreed. And she seems to have him watching you."

"You're kidding me!" Natalie said sitting up straight.

"He told her that you moved out of my place."

Natalie cursed. "You told her the story?"

"Yeah," he said, "and she seemed to buy it."

"Good," she said.

"Anyway," he said feeling awkward again, "I just wanted to let you know about Cramer."

"Thanks," she said.

"And you're still doing okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Well I guess I'll see you."

"Yeah," she said, "I'll see you."

Natalie hung up the phone fuming. She could almost, _almost_ excuse Cristian's behavior on this; he was her husband and they _had_been in love once. No doubt he was feeling a lot of conflicted emotions and she could understand why he wanted to know if the child was his. But Paul had always known he was just a fling; their relationship was about sex and anger and forbidden things. Paul didn't care about this baby except in terms of what it could get him. And how _dare_ he spy on her for Evangeline Williamson!

She snapped off the TV, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door.

* * *

Michael McBain scribbled his final notes on the chart just legible enough to suffice. He was supposed to have been off half an hour ago but if he'd learned anything about becoming a doctor it was that scheduled times didn't mean a whole lot. Particularly when pulling a shift in the ER. Truth be told he was shocked he was getting off as early as he was; then he saw who was walking through the sliding glass doors and realized he wouldn't be getting home as soon as he'd dared to hope.

Natalie's left cheek was swollen and beginning to bruise and her lower lip was bleeding and her clothes were rumpled as she staggered through the emergency room doors. Michael's heart jumped. He had mixed feelings about Natalie—he'd never had a problem with her personally but he wasn't completely thrilled at the strange and sudden relationship she'd developed with John. Nonetheless the battered woman who had just walked into the hospital might be carrying his brother's child

"Natalie?" he said walking quickly towards her, "what happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, "but I took a pretty hard fall. I need to make sure my baby's all right."

Michael nodded; clearly her injuries were the result of a lot more than a bad fall, but he wouldn't waste time now arguing. "Does John know? Do you want me to call him?"

"No!" she said sharply. If he'd had any doubts that she was hiding something regarding what had happened to her that completely erased them. She could tell from Michael's expression he was about to argue with her so she said, "I'm just here to make sure the baby's all right, I don't want to worry him if I don't have to."

"Okay, Natalie," Michael said gently, "but what if the baby _isn't_ all right?"

Just the thought of this clearly upset her. Trying to stop her jaw from quivering she said, "Obviously I'll tell him if there's anything he needs to know."

"That's not what I meant," he said, "I just don't think you should be alone."

"I'm fine," she insisted, "please just check and make sure my baby is."

Michael sighed. "Okay, this way."

He started to lead her towards one of the exam rooms but one of his colleagues put a hand on his shoulder. "You're off Dr. McBain, I can get this one."

"It's no problem, Dr. Anders," he said, but Natalie stepped away from him and towards the other doctor.

"Don't stay on my account," she said, "I'd actually rather you didn't."

Michael nodded and watched her walk away with Dr. Anders. She was determined to keep John out of this, but whatever had happened to her it was bad and he didn't know if he could just let it go. Finally an idea occurred to him. Walking far enough away from the equipment that he could use his cell he dialed his brother's number.

"McBain."

"How interesting? This is McBain too."

"What's up Mike?"

"I was just getting off work. Wondered if you'd like to get together for a drink or something."

"Now?"

"What? Is 11:30 too late for you? I had the impression you didn't sleep that much."

"I don't," John sighed, "Okay. Where do you want to meet?"

"Actually, I wondered if you'd mind picking me up here at the hospital."

John sounded surprised by the request but didn't question it. "Um… okay, sure I can do that."

"Great! Just come in to the ER. I'll be around."

John hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment as though it would tell him what Michael was up to. He could tell from his brother's tone as well as the strange request that something was wrong, but hell if he had any idea what. Well, he thought pulling himself up off the couch, the only way to find out was to head on over there.

"Hey Deb," Michael said catching Dr. Anders as she emerged from the room she'd taken Natalie to, "How is she?"

She looked grim but all she said was, "I'm waiting on an ultrasound machine."

"You think it looks bad?" he guessed from her expression.

"It's not that," she said, "Did she tell you what happened?"

"She said she took a fall," he said, "I didn't exactly buy it but-"

"Those injuries definitely did not come from a fall. Not all of them anyway. And some of them are… suspicious."

"How so?" Michael asked.

The other doctor leaned closer and spoke softly, "There's bruising on her thighs, some one her upper arms that looks like hand prints."

Michael had seen similar injuries enough to know what she was hinting at. "Did you do a rape kit?"

Debra Anders shook her head. "She won't let us. Said she doesn't need any care for herself, just her baby. I tried to explain that her health affects the baby no matter what, but she won't listen."

"Do you mind if I talk to her?" Michael asked.

She looked towards the door of the room and sighed. "If you think it'll do any good, go ahead."

Natalie had changed into a hospital gown and was lying on the exam table staring at the ceiling; Michael could see tears in her eyes. "Hey," he said gently as he came into the room, "Dr. Anders just went to check on the ultrasound machine."

"Good," she said, "I need to make sure this baby's okay. She shouldn't have to pay for the stupid things I do."

The words sounded as though they were spoken to herself as much as anyone and Michael wasn't even sure if she'd meant for him to hear. Walking a little closer to her he asked, "Natalie, who did this to you?"

"No one," she mumbled.

"Dr. Anders said… you know letting them do a rape kit now doesn't mean you have to press charges. You can take your time to decide, maybe talk to your Uncle Bo get a legal perspective, but this has to be done now."

"It's not necessary," she said.

"Natalie-"

"He didn't rape me, Michael," she said looking him in the eye, "rape kit won't show anything."

"Okay," he said. She sounded sincere, but that still didn't answer all his questions. "Who's he?" he asked quietly.

Natalie closed her eyes and shook her head. "I just want to make sure everything's fine with the baby."

"All right," Michael nodded, "Dr. Anders will be right back."

When John arrived at the hospital he found his brother standing at the nurse's station with a clipboard chart in front of him. "You ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Michael said, "I just need to finish this up." John waited impatiently for Michael to finish with the chart, but he couldn't help noticing that he was doing very little writing and glancing towards one door every couple seconds.

"Okay," he finally said, "what's going on?"

Michael looked at him innocently, "What do you mean?"

John slapped his hand down on the counter a little more forcefully than he'd meant to but after his earlier conversation with the not-quite-as-coy-as-she-thinks Evangeline Williamson he really didn't have the patience to do the same thing with his brother. "You call me up out of the blue after barely speaking to me the last couple weeks and want me to have a drink with you. Then you insist I meet you _here_ and you stall, pretending to chart while staring at that door over there."

Michael searched for an answer that would not violate doctor/patient confidentiality but still keep John here long enough to see what he needed to see. Fortunately for him the door to the exam room opened and Dr. Anders emerged with Natalie. Compared with her appearance when she first wandered into the ER, she looked significantly better—the blood had been cleaned from her lip, her clothes were smoothed and her face positively shone with relief. If it hadn't been for the bruise on her cheek which was now turning a deep blue, no one would have guessed something had happened to her.

"I think at this point you don't have anything to worry about," Dr. Anders was saying, "but if you have any spotting or cramping call your OB immediately or come in here."

Michel turned back to his brother who was staring at Natalie in shock; Natalie's gaze turned and landed on John for the first time and she froze.

"Natalie?" John asked making his way towards her, "what happened?"

Ignoring his question she turned a suddenly angry glare to Michael. "You called him? I told you not to!"

"No," Michael tried to protest, "we were meeting for drinks and-"

"Forget him," John said not taking his eyes off her, "what happened? Who did this to you?"

"It's nothing," Natalie said looking at the floor, "I'm fine. I just came in to make sure the baby was okay and the doctor says everything looks normal-"

John reached out and let his fingers graze the bruise on her face which was starting to spread to underneath her left eye. "_This_ isn't 'nothing,'" he said in a voice that was low but intense.

"It's not something you need to worry about," she said in an equally meaningful tone.

Suddenly something occurred to John; he took a slight step back—just enough that he could watch her facial expression. "Where did you go after I called and told you about Cramer and Cristian's lawyer?"

The long moment of silence that followed his question was all the confirmation he needed and he barely heard her when she mumbled, "No where. This isn't what you think."

"That son of a bitch," he said as rage started coursing through his body, "I'll kill him."

"John, no!" Natalie said sharply, "he's not worth it."

Whether John heard her or not was impossible to tell, but at that moment he turned on his heel and began marching to the door.

"John wait!" Natalie called, jogging a few steps after him. He didn't slow down and it was evident she'd never catch him at his determined gate. She stopped just inside the door, staring after him, and praying her stupidity wouldn't cause John any more trouble than she already had.

To be continued…


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note: **I'm sure there's legal stuff in this chapter that's wrong, but I spend too much time researching other stuff to bother for this. Apologies. Thanks for all your reviews, they really keep me going.

* * *

It had been one of those days where all she wanted to do was crawl into a hot bath and let the water soak it all away. Instead Natalie Buchanan found herself walking into the Llanview Police Department. Logically, she should have been upset or angry or maybe even afraid by what she saw, but the only emotion she could manage to summon was pure exhaustion. Her uncle Bo was the first to notice her and he quickly crossed in her direction.

"Natalie honey," he said, "what are you doing here?"

"Rex called me," she said.

He scanned her battered face. "What happened to you?"

"Long story," she said.

"I guess that answers some of my questions," he said.

Natalie looked past him; John sat beside one desk looking at his hands while the officer beside him filled in some paperwork. A few feet away, another officer held Paul by he shoulders as he struggled and ranted about wanting his lawyer. Rex paced around the room trying to look like a mature business owner although the light shining in his eyes indicated inside he was still the little boy, thrilled to have the front row seat for the fight. "What happened?" she asked.

"Agent McBain and Cramer started a brawl at UV," he said with a sigh, "I'm assuming it had something to do with you and that shiner."

"Probably," she groaned marching past him; the others seemed to notice her for the first time. John looked up at her wordlessly, his blue eyes looking strangely lost in a way she'd never seen before. Paul stopped struggling and sneered at her.

Rex was the only one to speak. "Hey Nattie," he said wearily taking a step towards her; then he paused. "What…?" Natalie could tell he was studying her bruises; he turned back to Paul and John as it hit him where they came from. Moving now towards Paul he growled, "Oh you fucking bastard!"

"Rex, don't," Natalie said putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Okay," Bo said in a voice that wasn't overly loud but was commanding, "Someone explain to me what happened."

"What happened was this nut job attacked me," Paul said motioning towards John, "I want him charged with assault."

"Only problem with that is, you swung first," Rex said.

"I did not!" he protested.

Rex ignored Paul and turned to Bo. "I did see McBain come in and kind of get in Cramer's face, but Cramer was the one who made it physical. He shoved him backwards pretty hard. From what I saw McBain was just defending himself."

"Defending himself?" Paul said, "Why am I the one with the bloody nose then?"

"I don't know," John said in a low taunting voice, "maybe because you only have the stones to beat up on pregnant women?"

Bo turned to Natalie. "Is that true, Nat? Is he the one who did this to you?"

Natalie hesitated and Paul made the mistake of filling the silence. "Tell him Nattie," he hissed, "tell him I didn't do anything to you that you haven't begged me to do before."

She flinched at his words and if it hadn't been for the police officers surrounding him, John would have pounced on Cramer again. Judging by the looks in their eyes her brother and uncle were fighting the same urge. Bo turned to the officers restraining Paul and said, "Take this guy down to a holding cell."

"What?" Paul exploded, "I'm the victim here!" The officers paid him no attention as they dragged him from the room while he continued ranting about how he was mistreated and the lawsuit he'd be filing.

Noting the look of discomfort still on his niece's face, Bo put an arm around her shoulder and directed her towards his office. He couldn't ignore the way her muscles tensed under his touch and between that and the bruises on her face he was beginning to fear the worst. As much as he knew his job revolved around finding out what had happened at Ultraviolet, his primary concern at the moment was helping Natalie in any way he could. She didn't protest as he led her into the room, nor did she question when Rex followed them inside.

John watched them go, replaying once again in his mind the events of the night.

_Something inside him had snapped when he figured out Cramer was behind what had happened to Natalie. The FBI agent inside him was vaguely aware that he should have stayed and questioned her to determine what exactly had happened, but at that moment he didn't care about the details. All he knew, all he needed to know, was that Natalie had been hurt and it was all his fault. _

_He'd told himself over and over again that Natalie wasn't Caitlyn, and it was true. Natalie wasn't one to sit at home and wait to be victimized, as soon as he told her about Cramer working with Cristian's lawyer, she had run off to take care of things herself. Only to wind up battered in the emergency room. If he hadn't called her, if he had confronted Cramer himself, if he had told her in person… he could have stopped this from happening. _

_And nothing, not even Natalie's plaintive voice behind him as he charged out of the hospital was going to stop him from making sure Cramer knew better than to even think about laying a hand on her again._

_It didn't take him long to track Cramer down; he'd been watching him for weeks, hoping for leads on the Santi case, so he knew his habits. He found him sitting at the bar at Ultraviolet, a dark bruise was already forming on his jaw and scratches were visible on his neck. In spite of himself, John smiled—Natalie hadn't gone down easy, she'd fought back damn hard._

_The strange surge of pride that gave him did nothing to disperse the furor he felt towards Cramer as he stalked across the club towards him…_

Inside Bo's office Natalie sat down in one of the chairs hugging herself tightly. She expected her uncle to position himself behind his desk, but instead he knelt down in front of her. "Natalie, sweetheart, what happened tonight?" he asked, "Did Cramer attack you? Is that why McBain went after him?"

Unable to look him in the eye she said numbly, "Cristian's petitioned the court for a prenatal paternity test. I refused, because they're not 100 percent safe, I said he'd have to wait till after the baby was born, but apparently that's not good enough for him. So his lawyer is trying to get John and Paul to petition as well so it will help their case. John refused, of course, but Paul not only accepted, he's been spying on me for her."

"Is there anything he could find by spying on you that would be a problem if it got out?" he asked. The cop in him wasn't completely drowned out by the concerned uncle and he still needed to get to the bottom of everything that had happened that night.

"I moved out of John's place today," she said, "I moved in with Rex… it's a long story but Evangeline Williamson found out about it and she thought she could use it to turn John to their side."

"But it didn't work?"

She shook her head. "But when John called me and told me, I just got so mad…"

"Let me guess," Rex said speaking up for the first time, "you decided to confront Cramer yourself."

Still sounding distant and somewhat numb she nodded. "I figured there was nothing I could do to change Cristian's mind. And Evangeline's just in it for the paycheck and the win. But I thought maybe if I could make Paul a better offer… So I went to his place and offered him $10,000 to back off from the paternity test and another $10,000 if he'd agree to say out of this baby's life forever no matter what."

"He didn't take the deal?" Bo asked.

Natalie shivered. "He wasn't interested in money." She bit her lip and furiously blinked back tears, angry with herself for breaking down.

Bo took her hand and squeezed it. "Honey, I know it's hard to talk about this, but I need you to tell me everything that happened when you went to see Cramer."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "He was alone when I got there and I'm pretty sure he'd been drinking. I told him that I knew he'd been spying on me and I knew he was joining on the paternity test petition and I told him that it didn't matter whether he was the father because he would never get custody of my baby. And I told him that I could save him and everyone else a whole lot of trouble and that's when I offered him the money."

"And he turned you down," Bo prompted.

"He said he didn't need money. That he had so much money coming to him that $20,000 dollars wasn't worth it."

"Where's Cramer getting that kind of cash?" Rex asked.

"I didn't ask," Natalie shrugged, "That's when he said maybe we could work out something else."

When she was quiet for a moment Bo said gently, "Natalie, I hate to push, but I need to be absolutely clear about this. Cramer offered to back off the paternity issue if you'd sleep with him?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice cracking slightly, "and for a minute I said okay. I was going to go through with it. I figured, what the hell, I've done it before, what's one more time? But then I thought, there's nothing to make sure he keeps his word—there's no guarantee he'll give up afterwards."

"That was a smart decision," he assured her, patting her hand.

"And I thought about my baby and how I want to make her or him proud of me and I just couldn't do it."

"Did you tell him that?" Bo asked. He hated being this pushy after what she had evidently been through but he also needed to know what they would be looking at if rape charges were going to be filed. In most cases the law required that refusal be explicitly vocalized.

"Yeah," she nodded wiping a tear from her left eye, "and I went to leave but he grabbed me and he pulled me back. So I punched him, but that didn't make him let go, it just made him mad and he threw me down on the bed and…" Natalie trailed off, unable to speak anymore. She felt like she was going to retch as she remembered Paul's fingers digging into her thighs, the weight of his body as he pressed her into the bed. All of this coupled with the fact that Paul's words a moment ago had been true; it wasn't anything she hadn't asked for in the past. She looked from Bo to Rex—the only two men who had proved to her that some men could still be trusted. Two men who thought much more highly of her than she deserved. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I can't do this. I can't talk about this in front of you two."

A moment later, Rex was at her side with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Does she have to do this now?"

Bo shook his head. "I don't need all the details right now," he said, "but it will help a lot if you can just answer one question. Did Cramer rape you?"

"No," she said firmly, "he tried, but I kept fighting him. I scratched him and I kicked him and I got in a lucky shot and he fell off the bed and hit his head on the nightstand and knocked himself out."

"Thank god," Rex said under his breath.

"Then what happened?" Bo asked gently.

"I ran out of there as fast as I could and I went straight to the hospital. I was worried about the baby. And when I got to the ER, Michael McBain was there and I told him not to call his brother but he did anyway," she said, relaxing slightly as she moved past the worst part of her story.

"Doesn't that violate doctor/patient confidentiality?" Rex asked.

She shook her head, "I guess he didn't tell him I was there, he just asked him to come down. And then we ran into each other and before I could explain what happened, John figured out Paul was the one responsible and he took off."

"I take it that's when McBain tracked Cramer down to Ultraviolet," Bo said thoughtfully.

"Must be," she said. Turning to Rex she asked, "What happened?"

"Cramer had come in about half an hour earlier," he said, "looking pretty beat up, you got him good. Then McBain comes charging in out of nowhere and he looks pissed. I mean really pissed. He goes up to Cramer and they started arguing but I couldn't hear what they were talking about. I saw Cramer shove him backwards and they started going at it."

Turning back to her uncle, Natalie said, "He was just doing it for me, Uncle Bo. Please tell me he's not going to get in trouble over this."

"I wouldn't worry about that," he assured her, "If Cramer made the first physical contact his assault charge holds no water. So unless Rex wants to press charges, I think we can take care of any little things pretty easily." He knew from experience the FBI would find a way to smooth this out and take care of things quickly.

"Thank you," she said, "Would you mind… can I talk to him alone for a minute?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Bo said standing up and patting her hand, "You can use this office, I'll bring him in."

Natalie composed herself as much as possible while her uncle and brother left. A moment later she looked up to see John standing in the doorway. "Come in," she said, "and close the door."

"Are you okay?" he said as he shut the door, not allowing himself to come any closer.

"Yes," she said, "thank you for sticking around to find that out earlier, by the way."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"What were you thinking?" she asked, meeting his eyes for the first time. When he didn't answer she pressed further, "You could have just put your whole case in jeopardy!"

"Maybe not," he said, "it supports my cover. Helps with the image of the loose cannon the FBI booted out."

"And if my uncle has to book you for assault how's the FBI gonna like that?" she asked.

"Some things are more important than the case," he said. He was as shocked at his words as she appeared to be; it had been a long time since anything had been more important to him than the case of the moment.

"I don't understand you, John," she said running a hand through her hair, "You refuse to make love to me because you're afraid of me getting hurt, but you run around town beating up guys to defend my honor?"

"I got you involved in this case," he said, "Anything happens to you, it's on me."

"But you didn't get me involved with Paul," she said standing up and walking closer so she could look him straight in the face, "Anything that happens between him and me I brought on myself."

He reached out and gently brushed the bruise on her cheek with his fingertips. "You didn't deserve that."

"Maybe not," she said, "but from what I hear he didn't look any better. I can take care of myself, John, I've been doing it for years."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should have to," he said echoing their conversation the night her mother and Jessica had come over.

Throwing her own words back in her face just made her angrier. "I can't do this, John," she said, "I can't do this halfway, half-assed shit. I can't take you swearing up and down that nothing's going on between us, that nothing _can_ happen between us, and then have you keep acting like there is. Make up your mind!"

He closed his eyes; if only it was as easy as she made it sound. His mind knew what had to happen, but his heart wasn't listening. But the last thing he wanted was to make things harder for her, so he'd find a way to keep his feelings in check. "Like I said," he said wishing his voice didn't sound so hoarse as he spoke, "you don't need someone like me in your life. It's not safe. And even if it was, I'm just in town for the case. Here today, gone tomorrow. You're better off keeping your distance."

"Fine," she said blinking back tears again, "just keep reminding yourself that. See you around." She pushed past him and walked out the door, hoping she could make it out of the station before she started crying again.

Rex saw her and jogged after her, "Hey Nattie, you need a ride."

"I have my own car," she said without slowing down.

"Okay," he said, "I'll walk you out."

Natalie was too exhausted to argue although she really wanted to be left alone at the moment so she kept walking briskly in the hopes he would fall behind. Rounding a corner in the hallway she nearly collided with Kelly Cramer.

"Natalie!" she said in surprise, "Oh my god, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"No thanks to your brother," Rex chimed in.

"Paul did this?" Kelly asked, the look of shock growing on her face.

"Yeah," Natalie said folding her arms around herself tightly; she really didn't want to talk about this again.

"I'm so sorry," she said genuinely.

"You're not responsible for him," Natalie told her, "what are you doing here?"

"Paul called me," she explained, "He demanded I get him a lawyer so I came down here to see what was going on." She moved closer to Natalie and said, "He's not planning to fight you for custody is he?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I don't even think the baby's his so-"

"Natalie," Kelly said gravely, "whether this baby is his or not, don't let him near it."

"I wasn't planning to," she said, though the ominous tone of his sister's words strengthened her resolve even more.

"Is there something we don't know?" Rex asked.

Kelly looked like she was about to speak again but apparently decided not to. Finally she said, "Just trust me when I tell you Paul is the last person you want to be father of your child."

* * *

Later that night John let himself into one of the Santi riverfront warehouses. He'd been working security for Tico long enough that he could move into most places without question, but up until that point he hadn't wanted to risk testing exactly how much access he could gain. But his conversation with Natalie that night had made him more determined. He needed to remind himself that he was a workaholic with no personal life; that nothing mattered but this case. He needed to gather enough information to bring down the Santi operation as soon as possible and get out of town before his feelings for Natalie destroyed them both.

To be continued…


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's note: **These next chapters jump around a bit—hope it's not too confusing. Also, a lot happens in them. Thanks as always for your reviews and patience with this story.

* * *

The police vehicles had the street blocked off so John had to get out and walk the last block to Rex's apartment. He passed several cops but none of them questioned him; either they had orders to let him though or the look on his face was enough that no one wanted to tangle with him. The door to the apartment itself was standing open and he walked inside unnoticed for a moment. The place was a wreck—shattered glass everywhere, a table and chair knocked over on their side. 

Natalie sat on the couch looking stunned, a glass of water in her hand while an officer took her statement. Her brother stood to one side talking to another cop while holding a piece of bloody gauze to his own forehead. Bo was directing the crime scene team but crossed to John when he saw him enter.

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"Thank you for calling me," he said, "what happened?"

"Balsom says they were eating dinner when they heard gunshots. Took him a second to realize they were coming into the apartment, but when he did he pushed Natalie to the ground and took cover."

"Anyone hurt?" John asked fighting to maintain his FBI agent calm when what he really wanted to do was run to Natalie and take her in his arms.

"Balsom has a scratch on his forehead and the guy next door got hit in the shoulder," he explained.

"Any idea who put the hit out on Balsom?"

"That's why I called you," he said, "we're not sure the hit was on Balsom."

The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach intensified and he tried to keep his voice even as he asked, "You have evidence that Natalie was the target?"

"Nothing definite," he said, "And I don't have any evidence Balsom_wasn't_ the target, I just don't want us to ignore any options. And I was hoping you could help us out."

He said the last part in a low tone; Bo was one of few people in Llanview who knew the story about him getting thrown out of the FBI was only part of his cover. "I'll do what I can," he said quietly. His eyes kept wandering back to Natalie. He'd done what she asked and stayed away for the past month, throwing himself so forcefully into his work that he never saw her and scarcely had time to think about her. Over and over he told himself that she was safer without him and that his work would ultimately ensure her safety. But staring at her now, he couldn't help thinking that it seemed every time he let her out of his sight something like this happened.

Bo followed his gaze and nodded. "She's fine—just a little shaken up. Go ahead. You and I can catch up later."

Unable to resist now that he'd been given explicit permission, John made his way to her and knelt in front of her. She'd put down her glass and now clutched a damp tissue in both hands. Reaching up he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, giving him a clearer view of tearstained blue eyes that blinked at him fearfully. "You okay?" he asked gently, knowing it was a stupid question even before the words left his lips but he didn't know what else to say.

Natalie fought for words a moment before she gave up and threw herself into his arms. As angry as she still was with him she couldn't deny that his touch, his voice, made her feel safe and she needed to feel that. The bullets spraying through the windows and walls of Rex's apartment had shattered more than glass. Suddenly the world looked like it had when she was a child growing up with Roxy—scary, unpredictable, with no safe spaces. She hadn't felt that since she grew up and learned how to fight back and since she'd come to Llanview and found her family, she'd almost forgotten that feeling. But now it was back with one small change—John's arms were safe.

John held her tightly and let her sob on her shoulder wishing he could chase away the demons the way she seemed to be trusting him to do. Instead he offered the only words of comfort he could. "It's over," he murmured into her ear as he stroked her silky hair.

She finally stopped sobbing and pulled back wiping her nose with the tissue. He saw her body stiffen as she seemed to remember the tension that had existed between them since that night on the rooftop. "I'm sorry," she said. "Thank you for coming I'm sure you have something more important to be doing."

"No," he said, his hand still caressing her hair, "not more important than this."

Natalie took a step back and looked around; hating how much steadier she felt now that John was here. "Rex?" she asked looking for him.

Rex made his way to her immediately. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said reaching up to touch the wound on his forehead, "but you're not."

"It's just a scratch," he assured her.

"You saved my life," she said tearfully.

He shrugged, trying to act blasé though he was clearly as shaken as she was, "Just consider it payback for all the times you saved me growing up."

"You need to get that looked at," she said.

"You should get checked out too," he said putting a hand on her shoulder, "you hit the ground pretty hard when I knocked you down."

She shook her head wearily, "I'm fine."

"He's right," Bo said joining them, "you should come with us down to the hospital, just to be on the safe side. Make sure everything's okay with the baby."

Subconsciously, Natalie's hand moved to the place on her belly that was just starting to become rounder. She hesitated; if it had just been her, she would have refused again but she didn't want to take chances with the baby. Before she could answer John circled an arm around her and said in a voice that was tender but firm, "Come on tough guy. I'll drive you."

* * *

"Natalie!" Michael said walking towards them as they entered the emergency room, "We have to stop meeting like this." 

"No arguments here," she said smiling weakly.

"Your uncle got here a few minutes ago with Rex," he said, "he told us what happened. You feel all right? Any cramping? Spotting?"

"I don't think so," she said, "no."

"Okay," he nodded, "I don't think you need to worry but we're gonna check you out just to make sure." He started to direct her to a room but she stopped him, a sudden look of worry washing over her face.

"Wait, Michael, is Rex okay?"

"Well you know Rex," he said, "at least he hit his head where he can't do a lot of damage." Realizing from her expression Natalie wasn't ready to joke about this he sobered and said, "Yeah, he's gonna be fine. They have to rule out a concussion, but I think a couple stitches and he'll be fine. Looks like it was glass and not a bullet that got him, so it's not too bad."

"Thank you," she said letting Michael lead her to the room now.

John started to follow them, not sure he belonged in a room where she was being examined but hesitant to let her out of his sight. Telling himself she was fine for now, she was in a hospital which at the moment had several police coming and going, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Will you be all right for a few minutes? I need to make some phone calls."

Natalie nodded though he could see fear starting to creep back into her eyes. "Yeah," she said, "thanks for driving me."

John walked down the hall a bit looking for a secluded spot to make the calls he needed to but was surprised to see Antonio Vega making his way towards him. After confirming with a quick glance that no one else was around he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Antonio looked at him skeptically. "You don't know?"

Not understanding his question John said slowly, "Well I came in with Natalie…"

"What happened to Natalie?"

"Someone shot at the apartment where she's staying with her brother," he explained.

"She okay?" Antonio asked.

"Just shaken up," he replied, "so what are you doing here?"

"My sister Adriana was attacked tonight," he said, "She was walking home and some guy with a knife appeared out of nowhere."

"She okay?" John asked.

"She's bad, but it looks like they got her stabilized."

"Mugging?"

Antonio shook his head. "If it was, he left her purse. The guy that was with her said the creep grabbed her and it looked like he was trying to slit her throat but he apparently didn't realize that her mother stuck her in kickboxing and self-defense classes last year. She managed to get out of his grasp but got stabbed in the stomach during the struggle."

"I'm sorry to hear that," John said, "I hope she pulls through."

"That's not all," Antonio said. John noticed for the first time that Antonio's normally tough composure was starting to slip; he was really upset. He waited for the other man to continue. "Someone set fire to the apartment where my mother and daughter were. Ordinarily they both would have been asleep and probably wouldn't have made it out, but my mom got a call from a friend in Puerto Rico and was on the phone when she smelled smoke. They're both being treated for smoke inhalation right now."

"Where's Cristian?" John asked his mind racing.

"I haven't been able to get him on his cell," he said, "I'm getting pretty worried."

"I'll see if we can get some people looking for him," he nodded.

"Thanks," Antonio nodded, "You know what this looks like?"

John knew exactly what it looked like, and it had him more worried than ever. He'd seen this before when someone wanted to make a move they would take out all potential competition at once, that way no one had warning and a chance to defend themselves. From the look of things, someone wanted to make sure there was only one potential Santi heir left: hits had been placed on Manuel Santi's daughter, sister, and granddaughter. With Cristian MIA it looked as though he might very well have been a target as well. And Natalie. Natalie had no connection to the Santi family except the baby she was carrying. Whoever was making this move was thorough, not even willing to take the chance that Natalie's baby could be Cristian's and come to be a threat in the future.

"You know what it looks like that you weren't targeted?" John asked. He hated having to imply this because he didn't really believe it, but he couldn't ignore it either.

"That Tico wants me to suffer before he kills me," Antonio said without flinching. "Come on, McBain, my own daughter was nearly killed, you can't believe I had anything to do with it."

"I don't," he said, "but I'm going to have a hard time proving it."

"I'm sorry," Antonio said sarcastically, "I thought finding proof was your job."

John couldn't begrudge the man being upset after everything that had happened that night. Keeping his voice even he said, "It is and I will. I just want to make sure you're clear on what we're up against. I'll make sure someone tracks down Cris and Tico both and I'll talk to the Commissioner, make sure he knows what angle we're looking at this from."

"Thanks," Antonio nodded, "I'm gonna go check on Jaime."

John tracked down Bo, who already knew about the other incidents and had similar suspicions to John and Antonio. He agreed to put out an APB for both Cristian and Tico and to keep John updated on the investigations of all three incidents. John made some phone calls to the field office and Peterson agreed to send a couple of guys down to help out in the investigation. He also grudgingly consented to increase surveillance on Tico.

When he was finished, John began making his way towards the room he'd seen Michael lead Natalie into. Michael intercepted him halfway, a somber expression on his face. "Hey Mike," John said, "How is she?" Michael didn't answer immediately he just stared at John. "Michael, is something wrong?" he asked.

"Yeah," Michael said slowly.

John felt his pulse speed up; if something had happened to Natalie, to her baby, because he had been too distracted to wrap this case up sooner, he'd never forgive himself. "Is it the baby? Mike-?"

Michael stopped his questions by holding up his hands and said quietly, "I think you should come inside." Michael pushed the door to the exam room open and John walked through. Natalie was lying in the bed wearing a hospital gown, a blanket draped over her legs and lower abdomen; she looked up at Michael and John and could tell from their expressions that something was wrong.

"What's going on?" she asked anxiously, "Michael, is something wrong with the baby?"

"The baby's fine," he said in a taut voice, "ultrasound, everything looks normal."

"Then what's going on?" she asked.

"You said something was wrong?" John added.

Michael looked at Natalie and said, "I think there's something you need to tell my brother."

She looked at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Natalie," he said raising his voice a little, "Tell him or I will."

"Michael, I really don't know what you're talking about," she said shaking her head, "is this something about the baby-?"

"The baby looks fine," Michael said sharply, "for fifteen or sixteen weeks. The only problem is, you haven't even known John that long."

"That," she said, closing her eyes as she realized what Michael was upset about.

"Yeah," he said, "that little thing about how you're lying to my brother about carrying his baby."

"She's not," John said quietly.

Turning to him Michael said sympathetically, "Look John, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it's only what 9, 10 weeks since you came to town. There's no way this baby is yours."

"I know," he said, "but she's never lied to me about that."

"What?" Michael asked in shock looking back and forth between the two of them, "You knew?"

"Well even if she'd tried to tell me it was mine I'm pretty sure I would have figured it out," he said, "considering we've never had sex."

"You… what?"

John looked at his brother sternly, "Mike, whatever we say can't leave this room. We're covered by doctor/patient confidentiality, right?"

"Yeah, and that whole part where you're my brother," Michael nodded.

"Basically John's been doing me a really huge favor," Natalie said, pressing up on her elbows.

"We've been helping each other out," John amended. "She gives me an excuse for staying in Llanview, I help her out of a bad situation."

"And what about the baby's real father?" Michael asked, "Doesn't he deserve to know?"

Natalie narrowed her eyes, "The baby's father is either a man who slept with my sister and then shot me or a criminal who beat the hell out of me last month, so to be honest, I'm not sure he does."

Michael ran a hand through his hair; he looked as though he had no idea how to respond to this latest turn of events. "But… I mean…" he stammered.

"Come on," John said taking him by the collar, "let's finish this conversation out here." With what Natalie had been through in the last few hours and what he had to tell her, she didn't need the added stress of a lecture from Michael.

Out in the hallway, Michael exploded. "This is all starting to make sense now," he said, "Your expression that night at the police station when I asked if it was yours…Don't even try to feed me this crap about it being a mutual decision," he said motioning wildly towards the room, "you can't tell me this wasn't Natalie's idea."

"Okay, it was," John agreed in an even tone, hoping if he remained calm it could sooth his brother a bit, "but I agreed to go along with it because it made sense."

"I'm sure it did once Natalie explained it," Michael nodded, "she seems to have a way of sucking guys in-"

"She didn't suck me in," John said quickly, "this is the kind of thing you do when you're undercover."

"So what's really going on between you?" Michael asked, his anger easing some into genuine curiosity.

"Nothing," John said realizing his defensive tone was probably more incriminating than an admission, "We're friends."

"Friends," Michael repeated dubiously. He took a step back and studied his brother for a moment before saying, "So you think it's genetics or just some sort of family curse?"

"What?" John asked, not following his brother's change in subject.

"The McBain obsession with red-heads," Michael said knowingly, "I mean I fell victim to it with Marcie and-"

"Me and Natalie aren't like you and Marcie," John insisted.

"Well that's for damn sure," he said, "look Johnny, all I'm saying is I noticed it before I even knew about the baby. The electricity between you two, the way you look at her… it's not just the case. I haven't seen you like that with a woman since Caitlyn."

"Natalie's not Caitlyn," John said, vocalizing the mantra he'd tried repeating to himself over and over.

"Oh so _that's_ the problem," his brother said, "you don't want to get involved with Natalie because you're afraid something will happen to her like with Caitlyn."

"What are you?" he asked irritably, turning his back, "my brother or my shrink?"

"I'm your brother," Michael answered, "and maybe if you talked to me about this, you wouldn't need a shrink."

"At the moment I don't need either," John said impatiently, "Look I have to tell Natalie some bad news so she doesn't need extra stress. Either be civil of find a different doctor to take care of this one."

"Bad news?" Michael asked, "What's going on?"

"We think Natalie was the target tonight," he said keeping his voice low even though there wasn't anyone else nearby, "or more specifically her baby?"

"Why would someone want to kill Natalie's baby?" Michael asked.

"To make sure there are no potential heirs of Manuel Santi lurking around," he said, "so you see why this would be a bad time for you to go blabbing about how there's a fifty-fifty chance this kid belongs to Cris rather than a 1 in 3?"

"I'm not gonna say anything, Johnny," Michael assured him, "but if what you're saying is true… I guess if this lie helps keep them alive I'm not gonna argue with it, but you take care of yourself too, bro. And I don't just mean the physical."

"I'll be fine," John said as he pushed the door to Natalie's room open.

Natalie looked at him anxiously. "John, he's not going to tell, is he?"

"No, don't worry about him, he understands," he told her, trying to sound reassuring.

"But something's wrong. Something you're not telling me—I can see it in your face."

John shook his head; how had she come to read him that well in such a short amount of time? "You need to stay calm," he said gently.

"Kinda hard to do that when all these possibilities keep running through my mind," she said, "so why don't you just tell me what it is?"

Taking a deep breath he began going through the list. "Adriana Cramer was attacked tonight; she's in stable but serious condition."

"Oh my God, how terrible!" she gasped.

"Also there was a fire at Carlotta Vega's apartment—they're investigating the possibility that it could be arson."

"Is she all right?" Natalie asked, "And Jaime! Jaime's been staying with her-"

John reached out and squeezed her hand to silence her. "They're both here at the hospital being treated for smoke inhalation but it looks like they're going to be all right. But there's a bigger issue here—we have three crimes all happening simultaneously that appear to be connected."

"Connected?" she repeated curiously.

"Adriana, Carlotta, Jaime—they're all related," he said. She nodded to indicate she was following, "And they're all related to Manuel Santi. This guy I'm here trying to track down, he's billing himself as the heir to Manuel Santi. It makes sense he would want to make sure he didn't have competition for that title."

"But how does the shooting fit in?" she asked. "Rex has no connection to Manuel Santi and I don't think my being the soon-to-be-ex-wife of Manuel's nephew makes me much competition."

"Not you," he said softly.

Natalie's eyes widened and her hand flew to her stomach as she suddenly understood what he was getting at. "The baby? They were trying to kill my baby. They almost killed Rex and it's all because of me."

"You had nothing to do with this," he said stroking her hair.

"And this baby might not even be Cristian's it-" she bit her lip as another horrible thought occurred to her. "John… where's Cristian?"

He knew it wouldn't do any good to lie to her so he said, "We don't know yet, but your Uncle has guys out there looking for him right now."

"You think they went after him, don't you?" she asked.

"I think we have to operate under that assumption for now," he said nodded.

Tears started streaming down her face and he wished there was something more he could do to offer her comfort. He knew she still had feelings for Cristian, even after everything he'd put her through, and it must be killing her to think that something had happened to him. "What am I going to do?" she finally asked in a voice just above a whisper. "I know how to protect myself, but I've never had to do this with a baby before… I almost got Rex killed just by staying in his apartment, where am I going to go? I can't put anyone else in danger-"

"You're going to stay with me," he said firmly.

The fire returned to Natalie's eyes instantly; he was glad to see it even if it was directed at him. "Excuse me?" she said.

"As soon as Michael says it's okay for you to go, we'll go back to your brother's and get your stuff then we'll find a place-"

"We tried staying together, John," she said sitting up, "Remember? It didn't work."

"Well we're going to have to find a way to make it work because I don't know how else to keep you safe."

"I'm not your responsibility, John!" she said sliding off the table, heedless of the hospital gown flapping open in the back.

"Yes you are-" he insisted.

"And what are you going to do anyway?" she asked, "What difference would it have made tonight if I was with you instead of Rex? You can't protect me from a bullet that comes out of nowhere!"

"Do you think I need to be told that?" he shot back fiercely.

Natalie softened; as angry as his periodic attempts to control her life while insisting he didn't want to be a part of it made her, she realized that the thought of a woman being shot brought back painful memories for him. Trying to steady her voice she said, "Look John, I'm sorry, but I can't let you be the one to protect me. Self-control isn't really my forte and being around you all the time it just… I think it's a bad idea."

"And what am I supposed to do?" he asked, not lowering his voice as she had, "Just sit back and hope nothing happens to you?"

"You're supposed to finish this case so we can all be safer," she said, "you're supposed to-" Natalie's voice stopped mid sentence. Her eyes widened and her face went pale as she gripped the edge of the table with one hand and brought the other to her stomach.

To be continued…

**A/N 2: **Sorry 'bout the cheesy cliffhanger. Couldn't resist.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note: **I really can't believe you all are still reading this thing. So yeah, thanks for that. And for the feedback, you have no idea how much it means. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I haven't pulled one of those in a while and… couldn't resist. A lot happens in this chapter—whoo hoo, the plot is progressing! And it jumps around a bit. Sorry to those of you who were hoping for some Jolie togetherness and lovin'—but you should have known me better.

* * *

_From Chapter 23_

"You're supposed to finish this case so we can all be safer," she said, "you're supposed to-" Natalie's voice stopped mid sentence. Her eyes widened and her face went pale as she gripped the edge of the table with one hand and brought the other to her stomach.

**Chapter 24**

"Natalie?" John asked in alarm, closing the distance between them instantly, "Natalie, are you okay?"

Natalie didn't respond; she just stood there, her hand on her belly staring at nothing in particular.

"Is it the baby?" John pressed. When she still didn't respond he started towards the door. "I'll go get Mike," he said starting to the door. Before he reached it, he heard her say his name and turned.

"It's okay," she said sounding stunned, "I thought at first something was wrong, but I think… I think I just felt the baby move."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said as a smile slowly spread across her face, "yeah, I'm sorry, I just panicked for a second there. Wow. That's amazing."

Her voice was breathless and a glow slowly washed over her being. John felt his heart flutter and tried to tell himself there was no reason he should be excited over this moment; he wasn't really the expectant father. But Natalie's joy was contagious somehow. He walked back closer to her and she looked up at him. "I wish you could feel this," she whispered.

Their eyes locked. Suddenly John couldn't force himself to think about Santis or bullets or anything related to the case. All that existed was him and Natalie and that moment.

They were brought back to earth a second later when the door opened and a voice asked, "Everything okay in here?" John turned to see Bo Buchanan standing behind him and jumped back from Natalie guiltily before he remembered he didn't have to.

"Yeah," Natalie said, hoisting herself back on the table before she flashed someone. "We were just… talking about the baby."

"Ah," he said. John could tell from his expression that Bo had come to discuss more serious matters. He turned to John and said, "We found Cristian."

Natalie's smile disappeared instantly. "Is he…?"

"They're bringing him in," he said, "he was shot three times, but he was still alive at the scene."

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"I don't have all the details, sweetheart, I'm sorry," he said.

"This is such a nightmare," she said covering her eyes with her hand.

"I know," Bo said, "but we're going to see what we can do to wrap it up as soon as we can. In the meantime what you need to concentrate on is keeping yourself safe."

"We were just talking about that actually," John said, "I think it would be a good idea for Natalie to stay with me again."

"No!" Natalie said sharply to him. Then looking awkwardly at her uncle she said, "I'm sorry, I just don't see how I'm any safer in a hotel room with John than I was in an apartment with Rex."

John wanted to argue but Bo spoke first. "What about Llanfair?" he asked, "It's back from the road, it has state of the art security-"

"It has my mother who has a heart condition," Natalie added, "no, I'm sorry, I can't do that to her." John wondered how much of her refusal had to do with everything that had happened with Jessica and Natalie's perception that her mother had chosen Jessica over her, but he didn't bring this up.

"Well what about Asa's then?" he suggested, "Asa's not going to get rattled by something like this and he'd love the chance to feel like he's being protective of his granddaughter."

Natalie considered this for a moment then nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

Bo turned his eyes to John, "That sound okay to you?"

"Yeah," he said though he wasn't thrilled with letting other people handle Natalie's safety, "If that's what she wants."

"I'll talk to Pa and get him to up security and I'll have some one drive by once an hour," Bo said. Turning to Natalie he said, "Now let's get you home. You need a ride?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "I want to stay here till I know Cristian's okay."

"Honey you need to rest," Bo said sternly. Seeing the determined look on her face, he softened and said, "Okay, just until he's stabilized. We'll leave you alone so you can get dressed."

John followed Bo out into the hallway, and the older man noticed the look of concern on his face. "She's gonna be all right," he said, patting him on the back. As he walked away, John wished he could make himself believe that.

* * *

The next day John made his way to Tico's office in the upscale high rise he had rented to house the corporate offices of his "business." The night before there had been a foiled break-in at Lion Heart. John suspected the whole thing was staged to make it look as though Tico was not excluded from the attempt to wipe out the Santis, but his job at the moment was to give Tico the security report on the incident.

As he approached the office door he heard raised voices. "You assured me you could handle this," Tico's heavily accented voice said, "It was a simple assignment. And you failed on all four tasks."

"Two of them I farmed out," a familiar voice he couldn't immediately identify said, "You can't blame me for-"

"Inept choice of personnel," Tico finished for him, "I most certainly can. Selecting the right person for a task is often the most important part. This isn't the first time you've failed me. What does it say about me if I continue to select you for anything?"

"Let me try again," the other man urged, "I know I can do this."

"We're being watched now, you fool!" Tico hissed, "We can't try again right now. Now get out of my sight while I decide how to deal with your incompetence."

The door flew open and John moved so that it would look as though he were just approaching it. He wasn't entirely surprised when Paul Cramer emerged. Cramer stopped and looked him up and down. "Well John McBain. What are you doing here?"

"I work here," John said calmly, "I could ask you the same question."

"Yeah well I don't have to answer your questions," he sneered as he pushed past him.

* * *

One week later John made his way up to Cristian's room at the hospital. After several hours of surgery they had finally managed to stabilize him the night he was brought in, but he was in critical condition for the first three days. The doctors had finally certified that he was well enough to answer some questions. Because he was undercover John still couldn't officially question him, but he had arranged to meet Antonio there. Given the history between him and Cristian, he suspected that even with his brother asking most of the questions, Cristian wasn't likely to talk freely in front of him. But he hoped that he would let concern for his family outweigh any personal feelings towards his interrogators.

He was surprised when he arrived at the room to find Antonio lingering outside. "Natalie's in there," Antonio offered as an explanation.

John wondered why Natalie would want to be alone with Cristian given everything that had happened between them. Had his brush with death made her realize her feelings for him were stronger than she'd believed? He scolded himself for the surge of jealousy he felt at that thought—whether she was Cristian Vega's or not, she definitely wasn't his.

The door opened and Natalie appeared, holding a file folder in her hands. "John!" she said in surprise, "I was just going to call you! What are you doing here?"

Motioning to the man standing beside him he explained, "Antonio and I had a couple things we wanted to ask Cristian about. What were you going to call me about? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said though she sounded somewhat uneasy, "I just…"

"Congratulations, man," Cristian said from inside his voice sounded anything but pleased.

John looked from Cristian to Natalie in confusion. "Congratulations? For what?"

Natalie handed him the folder. "I should have said something before, but I guess I was just nervous. But I got the results back today and…"

John opened the folder and stared at the papers in front of him—it was paternity test results. Having seen how adamant she was about refusing the test before he was surprised she'd done this on her own. He was even more surprised to see his name listed beside the words: Positive match 99.4. Not only could he not remember giving a sample for such a test, he was reasonably certain that the "results" were incorrect.

Suddenly it made sense, she hadn't consented to a paternity test--she'd had one forged. "Oh," was all he could manage to say, not able to confront her openly in public.

"Isn't it great!" she said giving him a meaningful look.

"Yeah," he said, "but I mean… we didn't really need a test, right? We were sure to begin with."

"Yes we were," she said smiling up at him. "Anyway, I'll call you later."

"Yeah, we have a lot to talk about," he said, hoping she understood he wasn't thrilled with her latest strategy. She reached up and gave him a light kiss on the lips before making her way down the hall.

When she was gone John looked back at Cristian who hardened his gaze. "What are you doing here anyway, McBain?"

"John and I were hoping to talk to you about the shooting," Antonio said stepping into Cristian's room. John followed him and Antonio shut the door behind him. "We're not exactly thrilled with the investigation the LPD is running and we want to see if we can turn up anything else."

Cristian looked warily between the two men. "I know why _you_ want to get to the bottom of this, Tonio," he said, "but why does _he_ care?"

Antonio answered

* * *

before John had a chance. "Natalie was almost killed that night too."

John could tell from Cristian's expression that no one had told him that yet. "I see," he said softly.

"Also because I asked for his help," Antonio added, "he's a former FBI agent--I thought he might be useful."

Cristian nodded grudgingly. "Okay. But I have to tell you, I think you're barking up the wrong tree here."

"What do you mean?" Antonio asked.

"Well I know you think this had something to do with the Santis and maybe what happened at Mami's and to Adriana did, but I think this might have been personal."

"You have reason to believe someone wants you dead?" John asked.

"Well I didn't before," he said, "but… I don't know. It was dark and I didn't get a good look, but I could have sworn it was him."

"Who?" Antonio asked.

"Paul Cramer."

* * *

John arrived at Asa Buchanan's home a few hours later; the guards had his name on the list of those permitted entry so he got to the door with little interference. He tried not to be intimidated by his surroundings as a butler let him into the foyer, but it was hard to believe this was actually a private home. Natalie came down the stairs dressed casually in sweats which contrasted so strongly with her surroundings it was disorienting.

"Hi," she said uneasily.

"We need to talk," he said, getting right to the point.

"I figured," she said, "come on." She led him to a living room and closed the doors behind them. "I assume this is about the paternity test."

He nodded. "Natalie, I don't want you to say anything that could incriminate you or anyone else. I don't want to know how you got those papers or who got them for you. But I need to make sure you understand you've crossed a line here."

"My baby and I were a target for assassination based on the possibility that Cris was the father," she said, "I had to do what I could to erase that possibility. And there was no way in hell I was going to tell Paul Cramer he was my baby's father."

"But what if he is?" he asked. Without giving her time to respond he continued, "I'm a law enforcement officer and you're asking me to ignore forgery and who knows what else. Think about what this could mean. What if you get asked about this during your divorce proceedings? Are you willing to commit perjury for this? What if they call me in? Natalie I can't lie under oath for you, I won't."

"And I wouldn't ask you to," she said, "but I had to do something."

"Why didn't you come to me first?" he asked, "At least warn me that you were going to do something crazy."

"John this is just temporary," she sighed, "once this Santi thing has blown over and the baby's born, I'll have the paternity test run and tell everyone the truth. I don't understand why you're making such a big deal about this."

"Because I'm just starting to worry you're living in a fantasy land," he said, raising his voice in frustration, "I'm not this baby's father and I'm not in a position to be a father to this baby. You understand that everything between us ends when this case is over, right?"

Natalie looked like she'd been slapped and as much as he hated himself for hurting her, he couldn't help thinking it was probably kinder to her in the long run. She was so much better off hating him. "Don't worry, John," she said in a perfectly controlled voice, "you've made it very clear that you don't want any attachments at all here and I'm well aware that your interest in me is purely professional."

"Natalie…" he said slowly, wishing there was some way for him to explain to her why he had to be a jerk.

Before he had a chance to think of something, the doors on one side of the room burst open and a tall, broad shouldered man walked in. "Nigel told me you were here," he said in a booming voice, "looks like we finally get to meet. I'm Asa Buchanan."

"Nice to meet you," John said extending his hand, "I'm-"

"The father of my great-grandchild," he said shaking his hand firmly. "I know who you are."

John fumbled for a response but Asa spoke again. "So tell me boy, do you intend to do right by this little lady?"

"Grandpa…" Natalie moaned sounding embarrassed.

"Yes sir," John said, "I can safely promise you I will do everything in my power to do what's best for Natalie."

"You know what I meant," Asa said sternly, "I meant are you going to marry her? Make an honest woman out of her?"

"Asa," Natalie said sharply, switching to his first name, "It's not the 1950s, okay? He can't marry me even if he wants to—I'm still married to someone else."

Guessing from what he knew of Asa Buchanan that the man would appreciate directness John spoke up and said, "Mr. Buchanan at the moment my primary concern is to keep Natalie and her child safe. Once we're certain that she's no longer in danger, then we can figure out together what the next step should be."

"Well you seem to have your priorities straight at least," he said nodding solemnly, "You seem to be a man of action, which if you ask me is so much better than some artist-"

"That's enough!" Natalie said sharply.

Only slightly acknowledging her with his eyes, Asa looked at John in a way he was certain was meant to intimidate and said, "Take care of my granddaughter and we won't have a problem."

"I'll do my best, sir," John nodded. Without a word of goodbye, Asa turned and walked from the room. When he was gone John and Natalie looked at each other awkwardly.

"Sorry about that," she mumbled.

"Don't be," he said, "he cares about you, that's a good thing."

"Look John-"

Not willing to return to their earlier discussion John looked at his watch and said, "I really have to go."

She could tell it was just an excuse, but she didn't have the energy to argue. "Okay," she sighed, "I'll see you later."

When he was gone Natalie stood in the room trying to compose herself for a moment. Kevin walked in a few seconds later. "Hey, Natalie," he said sounding surprised to see her, "I was looking for Grandpa."

"He was just in here harassing John," she sighed.

"Ah," Kevin said with a smile, "well I guess that saves me the trouble." Noticing the less than amused look in her eye, he sobered a little and said, "I heard you got the paternity results in and he's the father."

"Word travels fast," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"You must be relieved," he said.

Wishing the forged results Rex had helped her attain were real and she could be as relieved as she wanted to be, she nodded.

"John McBain seems like a good guy," Kevin said as Natalie turned away slightly, staring into space.

"He is," she nodded with a tinge of regret.

"One thing I can tell you," Kevin said, "even _I'm_ relieved Paul Cramer's not the father."

Natalie turned suddenly and looked at him sharply. "You know Kelly said something like that to me. Before I knew, she said I better hope it wasn't his."

Kevin looked slightly uncomfortable as he said, "Well I imagine anyone who knows him would say the same."

"It's just… when Paul and I were together he implied he had some kind of leverage on you. And he's managed to coerce Kelly into getting him lawyers and things and… the last time I saw him he said something about how he had a bunch of money coming to him. You don't know anything about that, do you?"

Natalie could tell from his expression that he did, but she didn't argue when he shook his head and said, "No. Who knows what he's talking about half the time? Anyway, I have to go find Grandpa."

Natalie watched him go, wondering what he'd gotten himself into with Paul and praying, not for the first time, that no matter what she could keep her baby away from Paul Cramer.

* * *

At 11am two days later John raised his hand again to knock on the door of Asa Buchanan's house, his heart already running faster than normal. He hated the way all this had gone; he hated that he had found Natalie only after learning that because of his job and his damaged soul he couldn't be with anyone. He hated that he only saw her when something bad had happened. And he hated that he didn't know how she'd react to what he had to tell her.

The butler let him in and called upstairs to Natalie's room to let her know he was there. Natalie came down the stairs and could tell immediately from the look on his face that this was bad news. "John?" she said curiously.

"How are you?" he said, unable to launch directly into the subject at hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked without answering his question.

He took a deep breath. "Paul Cramer was murdered last night."

To be continued…


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note:** Thanks as always for all your feedback and at this point just for hanging in there really. Things are finally starting to wrap up (although the end is still quite a ways away). This is one of those boring, utilitarian chapters. Bear with me.

* * *

_From Chapter 24_

"What's wrong?" she asked without answering his question.

He took a deep breath. "Paul Cramer was murdered last night."

**Chapter 25**

Natalie turned pale and swayed as though she were about to pass out; John reached towards her and placed a steadying arm on her shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said though she sounded dazed.

"Is there somewhere we can sit down?" he asked looking around the stone foyer.

"This way," she said leading him into the living room where they'd talked the last time he came to see her. When they were settled, she asked with a catch in her voice, "What happened?"

"I got a call about seven this morning," he explained, "some groundskeepers at the cemetery found him. Whoever killed him dumped the body in the grave which had already been dug for a burial that was supposed to take place today. They'd covered the body with a thin film of dirt. I guess the plan what once the put the casket over top of him, no one would ever know he was there."

Natalie shivered involuntarily at the thought of Paul as a corpse; even though she'd grown to loathe him over the last several weeks, but he had been her lover once and it was hard for her to think of him dead.

"Anyway," John continued, "these groundskeepers saw his dog tags sticking out of the dirt and went for help. He'd been shot in the chest at close range. Your uncle called me down there because he knew I'd been investigating him."

"You saw him?" Natalie asked, unsure why that mattered so much.

He nodded. "It's not the first body I've seen."

"I know," she said quickly, "it's just… I'm sorry this is a lot to take in."

"I know you had a complicated history with him," John said squeezing her hand.

"He was there for me when everything started with Jessica and Cristian. Maybe not in any way healthy for me and maybe his motives were selfish but… He said he loved me and I don't know if he did… maybe as much as he was capable of loving anyone. I mean he was a creep and a lowlife and the last time I saw him he tried to… But he might be my baby's father."

"It's normal to be upset about this," he assured her.

"But part of me isn't," she said, her eyes tearing, "I know I should be, but part of me is relieved. I'd just been praying and hoping for some way to get him out of my life and… I don't know what to feel."

"Natalie," he said, steeling himself for the unpleasant turn in the conversation he was creating, "I hate to ask this, especially when you haven't had much time to take this in, but I need to know where you were last night."

"I was here," she said blankly.

"Can anyone verify that?"

"I don't know," she fumbled, "maybe someone on the staff, I think I talked to Kevin at some point, I…" She straightened up suddenly as she realized the purpose of the question. "Oh I see," she said, "you aren't here as a friend because you wanted to let me know. You're here because I'm a suspect."

"I'm not accusing you," he said.

"But you _are_ questioning me?"

"Not officially," he said. Before he could explain to her that he couldn't question her officially even if he wanted to, she stood up and began pacing.

"Well gee thanks, John," she said, "it's a real comfort to know you won't turn me over to the authorities if I say anything incriminating."

"I'm just trying to find out what we're up against," he pleaded.

"We?" she repeated, "We're a _we_ all of a sudden now that I'm a murder suspect?"

"You're not the only suspect," he said sharply.

"Of course I'm not," she said, "Paul pissed a lot of people off he-" Natalie stopped short when she suddenly caught the full meaning of his words. "You too?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"How could they possibly think that you're a murderer?" she asked.

"I got into a public altercation with Cramer last month," he pointed out, "and as far as anyone else knows I'm involved with his former lover."

"But you're an FBI agent," she said as though that eliminated the possibility of his guilt.

"Not at the moment," he said. Natalie shot him a questioning look and he explained, "I'm suspended."

"But that's just a cover story," she said, "if you explain-"

"As of this morning it's not _just_ a cover story," he said quietly.

"They suspended you? Because of Paul's murder?"

"Because my superiors think I've become personally involved in this case. So much that it's clouding my judgment. Initially they just wanted to pull me off of it and send someone else but… Well I don't give up on my cases that easily and on top of that I don't think it's fair to the local cops to have one of their suspects just leave town like that," he said.

Natalie eyed him curiously. "From what I've heard from my uncle most FBI agents wouldn't be that considerate."

"Probably not," he said, "but I used to be a cop and I know what a nightmare these jurisdictional things can be. Just trying to avoid causing a big issue."

Natalie sank down on the couch again. "This is all because of me."

"No, it's not," he said shaking his head.

"Yes it is," she insisted, "if I hadn't made up that story about you being the baby's father... If I hadn't dragged you into all of this-"

"I was assigned to 'all of this,'" he reminded her.

"But-"

He held up a hand and looked at her seriously. "Look we could sit here all day talking about what we could have done differently and maybe you and I both could have been a little smarter about some things, but it's not gonna do us any good. Right now we have to figure out how to deal with what's ahead."

"Okay," Natalie said folding her hands and trying to focus.

"I really hate that I got taken off this case now," he said, "I'm not going to be able to protect you anymore."

"Well I don't think anyone's going to come after me now," she said, "I mean, I know you're all going to insist that I stay here where the security is tighter, but I think the paternity tests have probably worked-"

"I wasn't actually talking about that," he said uneasily, "although I'm glad you brought it up. In a way it's good that came out before this, because it makes it look like you had less reason to want Paul out of the picture."

"Right," she nodded eagerly.

"But Natalie, I need you to listen to this and listen carefully," he said taking both her hands and looking her square in the eye, "if the police or the FBI question about it, you can't lie. You can not tell them that that paternity test was legit. Because the truth will come out and if they find out you've lied about that they're going to wonder what else you've lied about."

"But I can dance around the truth as long as I don't explicitly lie," she deadpanned.

In spite of himself John's face broke into a smile. "Yes, you can dance all you want to. Just be careful."

Natalie leaned forward, resting her elbow on the top knee of her crossed legs. "So if you're not worried about protecting me from a Santi hit man, what _are_ you worried about protecting me from?"

"You have to be careful," he said, "you can't run around acting impulsively because things could get ugly with this investigation, and there's nothing I can do to keep them from putting the heat on you."

"That's very sweet of you, John," she smiled, "but I can take care of myself."

"That's kind of what I was afraid of," he said with a grimace.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid," she protested, straightening up, "I have other people to think about."

"The baby," he nodded.

"And you," she said looking him straight in the eyes.

The intensity of her gaze made him turn away and look at the carpet as he stammered, "You don't need to worry about me."

"They're only looking at you as a suspect because of me," she said, "the worse I look, the worse you look by association. I won't risk causing you more trouble than I already have."

"That's not what I was getting at," he said.

"I know," she said, "you wouldn't ever think about yourself in that much detail. If you did you would have gotten yourself out of this mess a long time ago. Anyway, the way I see it there's only one thing for us to do."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," he said rubbing his eyes with one hand.

"We have to figure out who killed Paul."

"No," he said raising his voice slightly to let her know how serious about this he was, "no, we leave that to the LPD and the FBI if they choose to get involved."

"There's that 'we' again," she said, "but why do I think you don't really mean it this time? Why do I suspect that I'm the only one who has to stay out of this investigation?"

"I don't know why you would suspect that," he said innocently.

"Oh come on John," Natalie said gesturing wildly with one hand, "you really want me to believe you're not going to keep looking into this?"

John shifted in his hair and fumbled for a denial he couldn't formulate. Smiling knowingly at his hesitation, Natalie said, "Don't even bother denying it, John. I know you, you don't give up."

"I guess that makes two of us," he grumbled running his hand through his hair.

"So if you're going to keep working this case, unofficially, let me help," she pressed.

Frustrated, and knowing deep down he probably wouldn't be able to talk her out of this, John stood and began pacing around the room. "The difference between us is that, suspended or not, I'm a trained FBI agent," he said, "and you're…"

"A small town bartender, I know that," she said folding her arms in a gesture that reminded him she was just as tough and stubborn as he, "that's exactly why I'm going to be a help to you."

John paused his pacing and looked at her curiously. "Okay, you lost me there," he said.

"Llanview's a small town," she explained, "everyone knows each other and they're not always open about talking to strangers. You're a stranger, but I'm not. Also, people like to talk to bartenders, it's half our job."

"You know they do train us in getting people to talk," he pointed out.

"But you can't flash a badge and drag them off to an interrogation room anymore," she pointed out.

"I didn't need to do that to get you to talk," he shot back.

Natalie bristled visibly at his comment. "Yeah, I'm easy, thanks for the reminder. But what do you if the suspect isn't an emotional wreck because their husband's sleeping with their twin?" She stood suddenly and turned her back to him, taking a couple steps in the other direction.

That hadn't been what John was getting at with his comment but he didn't blame her for being angry once he thought about it. No one liked to be reminded they'd been duped. "I'm sorry," he said walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder, "Hey. That's not what I meant-"

Natalie placed one of her hands over his, letting the warmth of his touch comfort her for just a moment before turning back around and dabbing the tears impatiently from her eyes. "Of course it wasn't," she said, "Ignore me I'm just… it's probably hormones."

It was probably more than that, but John didn't argue when she slipped back to a business like tone. "There's also my past with Paul to consider. I'm not saying I knew all his deep, dark secrets, but I probably knew him better than anyone in town. With the possible exception of his sister Kelly, who by the way you should put on your list of suspects."

"Already got her," he said, hoping that would prove to her that she couldn't contribute any information he couldn't gather on his own.

"But can you get her to talk to you now that you can't wave that badge in front of her?" she shot back, "I can. I don't know her that well but I know her. She works for my mom, she's great friends with Jess, and we have the common bond of having Paul try to ruin our lives."

"This is not a good idea," he said as much to remind himself as to remind her.

"It's a great idea," she insisted. "Look John, I'm not just going to sit around here and learn to knit booties. So you can either let me help you on your investigation or you can let me investigate all on my own and see what kind of trouble I can get into."

John stared at her for a minute; she wouldn't give up, that much was clear. And he'd rather have her under his supervision than on her own. But could he live with himself in the end if anything happened to her? "I'm going to wind up regretting this-" he began.

With a sudden burst of energy that surprised both of them Natalie lunged forward and kissed him on the cheek. "No you're not!" she promised, holding onto both his arms and looking into his eyes a moment longer than she probably should have.

John found himself staring back at her until he shivered involuntarily. Clearing his throat he took a step away from her just big enough to get out of her reach. "Okay," he said.

"Who else do you have on the suspect list?" she asked settling back on the couch.

Sitting down across from her John pulled out a notepad from his coat pocket. "Well you probably won't want to hear this," he said, "but your brother Kevin."

She nodded seriously. "No, that's smart. I mean I don't really believe he did it, but there was definitely something going on between him and Paul that he was very unhappy about. He had as much motive as anyone. Okay, who's next?"

"Tico Santi," he said.

"Tico?" she repeated, "really?"

He knew he shouldn't be telling her what he was about to, it pertained to a case, but he told himself she would figure out on her own before long. "Cramer had been working for Tico. I don't know in what capacity exactly, but I have reason to believe that he was the person in charge of that decapitation strike the night you were shot at."

"You think Paul was behind that?" Natalie asked, disturbed at the thought that a man she'd once shared a bed with could have helped to plan her murder.

"I think Tico was behind that, but I think he told Paul to take care of it," he said, "Cris tentatively IDed Cramer as his attacker and I overheard a conversation between him and Tico that… well Santi wasn't at all happy with him for failing on something. Something that had four parts to it—as in the four people they tried to take out that night."

"Wow," she said still mulling this over, "Okay, who else do you have?"

He looked at her blankly, wondering if five suspects weren't enough. "That's all," he said.

"Okay," she said adopting a business like tone, "you're going to want to add Dorian Lord. She's his aunt and she's very protective of Kelly. Plus Paul bragged to me about stealing from her and I doubt that went unnoticed."

"You think she'd kill him for that?"

"I think she'd have him killed for that," she said, "If she's behind Paul's death I'd strongly suspect she hired someone to take care of it. She doesn't really like to get her hands dirty."

John started scribbling in his notebook. "If she did hire someone there might be a money trail we can follow," he said.

"Right," she said, "also Jen Rappaport."

John didn't write this one down immediately, having witnessed the tension between Natalie and Jen he wondered if Natalie was merely letting her personal feelings drive this suspicion. "Why's that?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm not clear on all the details," she said, "but according to Rex, Paul's been blackmailing her. Or trying to. But not for money, if you know what I mean. He also put a pornographic video starring Jen's mom Lindsay and Rex on the internet."

"Maybe we should be adding her mom to the list," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Definitely," she nodded, "particularly when you consider she did shoot her ex-husband."

"Okay," he said writing. Another thought occurred to him and he paused, knowing Natalie wasn't likely to be receptive to this idea. "What about Rex?"

As anticipated, she shook her head immediately, "No."

"Look we have to be objective right now. I know he and Cramer had been business partners and that didn't seem to end well. Also from what I've seen he's fairly protective of you and when you consider everything Cramer did to you..."

"And Paul hurt Jen who Rex loves despite all my warnings," she continued sullenly, "but Paul owed him money and Rex would much rather have him alive and able to pay up." John gave her a look which clearly indicated that wasn't enough justification for taking him off the list. "Okay fine, put him on the list," she said with a slight pout, "but only so we can clear him."

"That's fine with me," John said writing it down.

"If you're going to add Rex you probably also need to add RJ Gannon," she said.

John looked at her blankly, "I've heard the name but-"

"Kind of the local sometime gangster sometime legitimate business man," she explained, "Paul and Rex did some work for him and totally screwed it up. Rex paid him back but Paul never did."

"You think Gannon's a strong suspect?"

She shrugged. "Probably not. Murder's not generally his thing—from what I know he prefers to stick to extortion, insurance fraud, that kind of thing."

"Well we'll put him down for the time being," he said writing, "anyone else?"

"That's all I can think of," she said, "but that's just here in Llanview, I mean I'd be willing to bet Paul made just as many enemies everywhere he went."

"Possibly," he acknowledged looking over the list, "but let's work with who we know for now. I'm going to contact some friends, see if I can get someone from work to run a quick check on all of these, see if anyone purchased a gun recently, look for large money transfers, that kind of thing."

"What should I do?" she asked.

"Sit here and wait for me to call you," he said putting the notebook back in his pocket as he stood up and got ready to leave.

"Wait a minute," she said standing up, "what happened to us working on this together?"

"What do you think we were just doing?" he asked.

"I want to do more than brainstorming," she said, "I know, what if I go over to Dorian's place, La Boulaie? Kelly lives there too. I can go and say I'm there to offer my condolences but I might be able to feel them out, see if they know anything."

John considered this for a moment, the idea had merit and he'd like a little face time with each of the suspects. His instincts tended to work better when he knew the players involved. "Fine," he said, "let me make some phone calls and we'll go together."

"I don't think you should come," Natalie said uneasily.

"I'm not letting you go alone," he said.

"Think about this, John," she said, "the ex-lover shows up to offer condolences, accompanied by the man she dumped the dead guy for? Can you say tacky?"

"I don't know," he said pursing his lips.

"Come on, I'll be safe there. Lots of people, high security…"

"Okay, fine," he said putting a hand on her shoulder to emphasize how serious about this he was, "but that's all you do. You go over there, talk to them, and you come back here and call me, got it?"

"Got it!" she said lightly with a smile, "you're going to be glad we're working together on this. I promise."

"Just be careful," he said, making his way to the door.

"Always," she said, as though they both didn't know that Natalie was usually anything but careful.

To be continued…


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's note:** For some reason this chapter wouldn't end. I finally just went back and cut it somewhere that it kind of made sense to end a chapter. Thanks for your patience and thanks to Tina for helping me out when I got a bit stuck on one point in this chapter.

* * *

Natalie took a deep breath and rang the doorbell at La Boulaie. Since her arrival in Llanview she'd made a conscious choice to avoid getting involved in the ongoing Buchanan/Lord/Cramer feud; she figured she'd made enough enemies within her own family, she didn't need to make enemies because of them. Thus far she'd been relatively successful. But she'd never been friendly with any member of the family either, except Paul, and that hadn't worked out very well.

A maid answered the door and Natalie told her she was there to see Kelly. She asked her to wait in the foyer while she checked to see if Ms. Cramer could receive guests. Natalie took note that Kelly had dropped the Buchanan name. Not that she could blame her—she knew the divorce from Kevin had been messy and she remembered how eager she was to shed Cristian's name.

A moment later the maid returned and showed her in to the living room where Kelly, Dorian, and David Vickers were sitting. Natalie felt instantly out of place in the loose fitting black dress she'd changed into; apparently no one in Paul's family saw fit to dress in mourning on his behalf. Dorian wore a deep red suit while Kelly was dressed in a stylish pastel outfit and David lounged about in brown slacks and a powder blue shirt.

"Natalie," Dorian said, rising to greet her with obviously faked cheer, "what brings you here?"

"I heard about Paul," she said, "I just came by to see how you all were doing. Offer my condolences."

"That's very kind of you," Kelly said smiling weakly, "come in, have a seat."

Natalie sat down uneasily on the expensive looking sofa. There was a moment of awkward silence before Natalie turned to Dorian, "How's Adriana doing?"

"Much better," she said, "we're hopeful she'll be able to come home soon."

"That's good to hear," Natalie said. It occurred to her for the first time since John told her Paul was probably involved in the attacks that Adriana was Paul's cousin. Not only did that add a new depth to Paul's depravity, but if Dorian had somehow been tipped off about this, it would give her an added motive for murder. And who could blame her for killing the man who tried to murder her daughter?

"I heard you were attacked that night too," Kelly said, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," Natalie said feeling guilty, not for the first time, that she was the only target to escape that night completely unscathed, "I wasn't hurt, just a little shaken up. And they're making me stay at Asa's until they're sure no one's going to try again."

"So you've seen Ace?" Kelly asked eagerly, "How is he?"

Natalie felt a twinge of guilt and her hand crept subconsciously towards her belly, not even wanting to imagine what it would be like to have your child taken away. "He's good," she said, forcing herself to smile.

"What a shame that Kelly has to ask someone else how her own child is doing," Dorian commented snidely.

"That's not Natalie's fault," Kelly said giving Dorian a meaningful look.

"That's true," David said, speaking up for the first time over his cocktail, "you and Natalie could practically bond over having slime bag brothers."

"Kevin's not like Paul," Natalie argued before she could stop herself.

"No he's not," Kelly agreed. Taking Natalie's hand suddenly she said, "Look Natalie, I know Paul did a lot of awful things to you."

"He did a lot of awful things to a lot of people," she said.

"Yes," Dorian said in a voice laden with not-so-subtle meaning, "and one of them killed him for it."

"Right," Natalie nodded uneasily.

"Was it you?" David asked. There was no accusation to his tone; he said it casually as one would ask 'Have you seen that movie?' or 'Do you want fries with that?'

"David!" Kelly scolded before Natalie had a chance to react to being act so directly.

"It's a legitimate question," David insisted, "not that I'm blaming you or threatening to report you to the civil authorities, I'm just curious."

"No, I didn't," Natalie said, almost laughing at the bizarre frankness of the discussion, "Did you?"

"Of course not," David said, "why would I ask you if I had? Besides, I have this thing about guns." He made a big production of shivering at the thought that nearly made Natalie lose her composure and laugh out loud.

She knew John would probably warn her against the strategy she was about to try, but considering the turn the conversation had taken, she couldn't help thinking it might work. "I think the bottom line here is someone murdered him and we're all going to be suspects."

"No doubt," Dorian said putting a hand under her chin in a well practiced motion meant to indicate thoughtfulness. "But while some of us will only be investigated because the police department has a vendetta against us, you had several reasons for wanting to get rid of him."

"But nothing to gain from his death," she pointed out, "everyone knows about the affair already so the only hold he had left on me was the baby and the paternity test just showed he's not the father so-"

"Please!" David said, "As if anyone trusts a paternity test that comes out of Llanview."

"I didn't kill him," Natalie said in a voice that was firm but even, "and if you all say you didn't either that's good enough for me. But there will be a police investigation and while we were together Paul told me things. Things that might make it look like you all had stronger motives for wanting him dead than anyone knows yet. I can tell the police when they question me, but that would just let Paul continue hurting people from the grave. So what I suggest is that we put our heads together and see if we can figure out who Paul's real killer is."

The room fell silent as they contemplated her offer. Kelly maintained the deer-in-the-headlights look she'd had since they started talking directly about Paul's murderer; Dorian looked intrigued but cautious while David looked amused by the whole thing.

Before any of them had a chance to respond the maid reappeared and said, "Mrs. Davidson is here to see Miss Cramer."

"Oh that's exactly what we needed," Dorian said rolling her eyes. With a sigh and a wave of her hand she said, "Show her in."

Natalie's heart started racing at the mention of her mother's name; she hadn't seen her since that night she and Jessica had come over to tell her about Jessica's DID. Her eyes shot around the room looking for a place to hide, but she scolded herself immediately. She needed to maintain her composure; she needed to act like an adult. Sooner or later she was going to have to face her mother.

Viki strode into the room wearing an appropriately somber navy suit. "Kelly, darling I just heard, I-" she stopped short seeing Natalie sitting beside her. "Natalie!" she said, "What a pleasant surprise! I didn't know you were here."

Natalie stood, partially to greet her mother, and partially because she hoped an opportunity for escape would present itself soon. Viki went to her daughter and pulled her into a hug which she didn't return. Slightly hurt, but not entirely surprised, by her daughter's lack of warmth, Viki pulled back. "How are you doing, baby?"

"I'm okay," Natalie said trying to force a smile and not managing.

Her mother nodded, trying to choose her words carefully. "I guess you've also heard about Paul?"

"Yeah," she said softly. She was uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but she couldn't bring herself to just walk out on her mother either. Viki asked, her eyes searching her daughter's for some part of her that wouldn't hold her at arm's length.

"I tried to call you as soon as I heard," she said, "I was worried about you."

"Why?" Natalie said more sharply than she intended. As much as she knew her mother was trying, part of her wanted to scream that it was too late to worry about her.

"Well darling, you and he had a very complicated history, I can't imagine what you must be feeling."

"It's kind of rough," she admitted, "but I'll be okay."

"Of course you will," Viki said, hoping the admiration she had for her daughter's strength showed in her eyes.

"I hate to interrupt this very moving reunion," Dorian said impatiently from across the room, "but why are you here, Viki?"

"I came to see how Kelly was doing and to see if there's anything I could do for her," she said.

"Well that's very considerate of you," Dorian shot back, "perhaps you could convince your son to give her child back to her."

Hoping to escape before Dorian and Viki began throwing verbal bitch-slaps across the room in earnest, Natalie said, "I should go." Turning to the residents of the house she added, "Call me after you think about what I said."

She made it as far as the door before her mother caught up with her. "Natalie, honey, don't leave on my account."

"I'm not," she said twisting her hands anxiously, "I really was about to leave when you got here."

"Well could you wait for me a moment? I could take you to a late lunch."

"Um… I already ate," she stammered unable to come up with a good justification for saying no.

"Well maybe you could call me later and we could have dinner?" Viki pressed.

Natalie turned her eyes to the floor; she couldn't look in her mother's eyes, so eager and full of hope, and stay strong. But she couldn't forget everything that had happened either; how her mother had chosen to focus on Jessica and her problems when Natalie needed her more than ever. "I don't know," she mumbled.

"Baby, I haven't seen you in weeks," her mother pleaded, "I've missed so much of your life already. Your Uncle Bo suggested that I give you space, but he also tells me you've been to the emergency room twice."

"It was nothing," Natalie said, "I'm fine. Just a little paranoid about the baby, I guess."

"Well I think that's only natural for a first time mother," she said sympathetically. "And I know what it's like to be pregnant and not have a mother you can talk to."

Natalie could feel tears pricking at her eyes; how did her mother know exactly the right words to say to get under her skin? But she refused to cry, not here, not now. "Um… what if I call you later? Dinner… might be nice."

Viki smiled gratefully. "I'll look forward to your call."

After a murmured goodbye, Natalie hurried out to her car. She sat in the driver's seat for a moment waiting for her pulse to slow down and her breathing to steady before dialing John's number. "Hey, where are you?"

"I'm just leaving Dorian's," she said starting the engine.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Well it was interesting," she sighed, "I don't think anybody there's responsible, but I also think there's more going on than they're saying. I think I almost had them ready to talk but… we got interrupted. I'm hoping they might call me later."

"Okay," he said.

"How did things go for you?" she asked beginning to drive slowly out of Dorian's long driveway.

"A friend of mine agreed to run a check on our list, look for big cash transfers that kind of thing. He should get back to me soon."

"All right," she said glad to get back into this and away from her personal drama, "so what now?"

"Well I'm working another angle real quick," he said, "maybe we could meet up in a little while—compare notes."

"Yeah," she said her mind immediately drifting back to the plans she'd tentatively made for later.

John must have heard the catch in her voice. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said unconvincingly, "I just… I agreed to meet my mother for dinner."

Not immediately grasping why this upset her so much he said, "No problem we'll work around it."

"Okay," she said.

It was only when the anxious tone in her voice didn't fade that John realized exactly what dinner with her mother meant to her at this point. "How are things with you and your mom?" he asked.

"Awkward," she admitted.

"Well I don't want to intrude," he said, "but if you need some back up for dinner tonight, I'm available."

"Really?" she asked eagerly.

"Yeah," he said, "do I need to come armed or-?"

Natalie smiled a little, "No, I don't think that's necessary."

"Good," he said with exaggerated relief, "they took my bureau issued weapon so…"

"I'll call you and let you know when and where. Thank you, John," she said tearing up slightly at his unhesitating willingness to support her.

"No big deal," he assured her.

John hung up the phone and knocked on his brother's door; Michael answered and looked at him in surprise. "Hey Johnny," he said, "What's up?"

"Are you alone?" John asked.

"Yeah," he said his confusion growing.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Michael said stepping to the side to let John enter and then closing the door behind him. "What's going on John? Did something happen?"

"Yeah," he said running his hand through his hair, "a couple things actually. Have you heard about Paul Cramer?"

"What did he do this time?" Michael asked rolling his eyes.

"Not what _he_ did this time," he said, "someone shot him last night."

"I was working in the ER last night," his brother said thoughtfully, "I didn't see him brought in."

"That's because he wasn't found till this morning and by then he needed a medical examiner not a doctor."

"Oh," Michael said sitting down. It was clear that like a lot of people he didn't quite know what to do with that information. "I mean I can't say I'm too sorry to see him go. I saw what he did to Natalie and… Do they know who did it?"

"Not yet," John said, "that's kind of why I'm here. I'm trying to figure it out."

His brow furrowed, "Isn't a murder case really more a local police matter? Why's the FBI involved in this?"

"I'm not doing this for the FBI," he admitted, "I've been suspended."

His brother rolled his eyes, "Johnny, I thought we were past all that. I know that you-"

"It's for real this time," he said.

"They suspended you? Why-?" Michael trailed off when the realization hit, "Because of everything that went down between you and Cramer? They think you did this?"

"I'm on the suspect list," he nodded, "but I'm not by a long shot the only one. And I'm not really in the mood to sit back and wait for someone else to clear my name so we're trying to gather some information on the other suspects."

"Who's 'we'?" he asked. John cringed inwardly at his slip; he hadn't meant to tell Michael that Natalie was working with him. He didn't even have to answer the question; Michael put it together on his own. "Natalie, right?" John kept his gaze steady neither confirming nor denying it. "What _is_ it with you and her, bro? You don't even like other FBI agents helping you on your cases and all of a sudden you're letting some bartender? What's really going on between you two?"

"Nothing," he insisted, "she just has some insight I don't. She knew Cramer pretty well-"

"Biblically was my understanding," Michael mumbled.

John shot him a look which made it clear he wasn't to start criticizing Natalie. "The point is, I'm new in town—I don't know many people, I don't know all their complicated histories. Natalie does, that's all she's helping with."

"So what are you doing here?" Michael asked.

John half leaned half sat on the dresser. "I need you to tell me about Jennifer Rappaport."

His eyes widened. "Did Natalie convince you that Jen should be a suspect? Because if she did it's just-"

"Look I know there's a lot of bad blood between them," he said holding up a hand to stop his brother's angry words. "And I'm aware that Natalie's not entirely blameless for it."

"And Marcie said she and Jen were going out last night," he added, "so she has an alibi."

"Do you know what time they were together?" John asked taking out his notepad and scribbling this down.

"I didn't ask for specifics," he admitted, "like I said I was working."

"Okay," John nodded, "Natalie heard from a source that would know that Cramer was blackmailing Jen and I know he tried to get to her through mother. Did Marcie happen to say anything about that?"

He could tell from the uneasy look on his brother's face that meant something to him. He hesitated before saying, "Okay, all I know is Marcie's been worried about Jen and it had something to do with Paul Cramer. I don't think Marcie knew what was going on but she kept seeing them together and I think she was just worried she was getting involved with the wrong guy again."

"Anything else?" Michael shook his head. "How much do you know about her mother?" John asked.

"Well she's got some nasty stuff in her past," he said, "Everyone knows that. But I don't really know her well. I know that-" Michael froze and his brother could tell he'd thought of something.

"What is it?"

"It's not about Lindsay," he said, "What time was Cramer killed?"

"I don't know exactly, why?"

"Well his room is right above mine," he said motioning toward his ceiling, "last night there was a lot of noise coming from up there about 3:30 to 4:00am. I know 'cause I got back from the hospital around 2:00 and I was finally getting to sleep and then there's all this racket."

"Did is sound like a struggle?" John asked, writing down notes.

"Sounded like someone moving furniture," he said.

"Thanks," John nodded, "that might be a big help."

* * *

When John arrived at Rodi's that evening he found Natalie waiting for him in the parking lot. "So," she said, "did you find anything?"

"Well my friend at the bureau found a whole lot, so much that it really doesn't help us narrow things down too much. It seems Kelly Cramer, your brother Kevin, and Dorian Lord all made large payments to Cramer over the last couple weeks. Jennifer Rappaport tried to write him a sizeable check, but it didn't clear. What's more is Cramer was receiving big payments from more sources than those four."

"So he was blackmailing someone else," Natalie guessed.

"Possibly," he nodded, "or was getting paid by someone for something that doesn't look quite legal."

She could tell from the thoughtful look in his eyes as he spoke that he was fairly certain where those payments were coming from. "You really think this might be connected to his working for Tico."

He shrugged. It was too early in the investigation to start operating as if he knew who the culprit was. "Maybe it's just wishful thinking," he said, "I'm trying to wrap up two cases at once."

"Well have you found anything else that could tie Paul's death to the Santis?" she asked.

"Not yet," he said, "all I've got so far is Tico was upset with him last week. Oh, I also found out that Lindsay Rappaport tried to purchase a handgun last week, but she couldn't get the permit because of her criminal record. Dorian Lord is known to own a gun and your brother has several and for most of the suspects on our list I don't think it would be too hard to get a hold of one. So I don't think tracing the gun's going to help us out a whole lot."

"Great," she groaned, "so what do we do now?"

"Well best as we can, I think we need to try to account for everyone's whereabouts last night," he said. She nodded. "I stopped by Michael's after I talked to you and he's pretty sure Marcie was with Jen last night, but he didn't know exactly what time."

"We need a timeline," she said thoughtfully, "we need to know what time Paul was killed otherwise we're just asking vague questions that aren't a whole lot of help to us."

"Agreed," he nodded impressed at her insight, "but I don't think the police are going to share that information with us."

"I know some of the guys at the station," she offered, "maybe I could talk to them and-"

John stopped her speech with a hand on her shoulder. "That's getting a little closer than I'd like to interfering with a police investigation. If it comes out you were trying to manipulate a police officer, it won't look good."

"Right," she sighed.

"Also from what Michael heard in his room last night I think someone might have ransacked Cramer's room. Most likely after he was killed, but I can't be sure."

"I could talk to Roxy," she offered, "if the police haven't already confiscated them, I'm sure she'd let us look at the hotel security tapes, see who came in or out."

"That would help," he said. He looked around the parking lot; it was dark and starting to get chilly. "Do you want to wait inside for your mother?"

"She's already inside," Natalie said smiling weakly and motioning to a BMW nearby, "that's her car."

"Oh," he said trying not to sound too confused by that revelation, "I just assumed when I saw you out here that-"

"That I would have gone on in rather than hiding out here from my own mother," she finished for him, "you clearly mistook me for a normal person."

"No, I know better than that," he said trying to lighten the mood, "you can always call her and cancel, you know."

"No, I can't," she said shaking her head, "as much as part of me wants to… I can't avoid her forever. And I'm not even sure I want to."

"Well you ready to go in?" he asked looking her in the eyes and wishing he knew some way to alleviate the anxiety he saw there.

"Yeah," she said biting her lower lip.

John took a step towards the door but Natalie didn't move. Taking her hand he said, "She asked you here—she wants to see you. And I can tell you want to see her."

"I know," she said with a slight crack in her voice, "I'm being stupid."

"Not stupid," he said smiling slightly, "maybe a little hormonal… Come on, I'll be right there beside you." Natalie took a deep breath and let John put his arm around her shoulder and lead her inside. She scolded herself for the particular way her skin tingled at his touch, reminding herself that he was just being a friend. Just being supportive. He didn't want anything else from her; he'd made that clear enough.

John wondered if he was pushing the boundaries putting his arm around her. He didn't want her to forget that nothing could happen between them and even more importantly he didn't want his own body to forget that. Because more and more every time he saw her part of him ached to take her in his arms and kiss away all the pain and worry. But he couldn't forget for one moment that in the end letting that happen could cause her more pain than anything else.

To be continued…


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's note:** Well the good news is it's finally starting to wrap up. The bad news is there are still about six more chapters. Ugh. Seriously, I can't thank you all enough for all your support on this story. It's by far the most complex thing I've tried to write and I need all the encouragement I can get to keep going. There's a scene in here that's shamelessly cliché, but I'm okay with that.

* * *

Viki was sitting alone at a table inside, looking somewhat uncomfortable and out of place. Rodi's wasn't exactly the kind of place where she'd ordinarily choose to eat and Natalie knew she'd suggested it mostly in the hopes of making her daughter more comfortable. Clearly, she hadn't thought about the fact that Natalie had been shot the last time she was there. She banished the memory as best she could and reminded herself that her mother was trying.

"There you are, darling!" Viki said standing up to meet her, "I was just about to call you."

"Sorry I'm late," Natalie mumbled, "I hope you don't mind that John came along."

Viki worked quickly to mask the disappointment on her face and said, "No, of course not. I'm actually glad for the opportunity to get to know you better—you _are_ going to be the father of my grandchild after all."

"Nice to see you again," John said shaking her hand.

They ordered their food and settled around the table and attempted to make small talk. Only when they had almost finished their meal did Natalie summon the courage to address the elephant in the room. "How's Jessica?"

Her mother hesitated, clearly thrown by the turn in the conversation. "Well integration is a long and arduous process," she explained, "but she's making progress."

"That's good," she said staring at her plate, unable to feel any real pleasure at her sister's recovery.

"Natalie," Viki said, clearly every bit as uncomfortable, "you know it's very hard for a mother when your children are fighting. You try your best not to take sides and no matter what, it winds up looking that way. I've been through it with Kevin and Joey and I've dealt with this for years with Kevin and Todd. I can tell you it's not fun. I was so happy when it looked like you and Jessica had worked through all your problems-"

"We had," she said, "until she slept with my husband."

"I know," she nodded, "and I can't imagine the pain that caused you. Unfortunately, I know all too well the pain that Jessica's feeling. And I realize that in trying to give her the help she needed, I inadvertently drove you away. But I need you to know that wasn't my intention. Both of you were in so much pain and I didn't know what to do for you. I _did_ know what to do for Jessie, so I did what I could. It was never a matter of picking her over you. I just hope that I haven't damaged things between us beyond repair."

Natalie felt tears pricking her eyes and struggled to get words out without crying. "It's just… I don't know if there was much there to damage in the first place. We've come a long way but… You and Jess have always been so close and I…"

John took her hand and squeezed it lightly; she held on to his like a life preserver as her mother began talking again. "That's true," she said, "you and I had so much stolen from us. Including that time when your child is young and everything is so much simpler and you can really get to know them. You came to me when you were already grown up and I didn't know anything about you. As much as I've enjoyed getting to know you over these last several years I don't understand you the way I do your sister. I know how she'll react, I know what to say to make her feel better. I know from the look on her face what's going on in her head. But sometimes I still feel so lost with you—I can't predict you the same way."

"It's easy—just think of the craziest, stupidest thing possible and that's usually what I'll do," Natalie said blinking furiously to hold the tears back.

"I don't believe that's true," Viki chided gently, "you've made mistakes—we all do—and not all of them have ended up so badly." She motioned to John with her eyes and Natalie felt a twinge of guilt at allowing her mother to believe the baby was John's. "But I'm so sorry if I've ever made you feel-"

"It's not all on you, Mom," she said, "as much as you weren't used to me, I wasn't used to having a mother. Not in any conventional sense of the word. And sometimes I'm a little lost on how to relate to one."

"Well I guess we both have a lot of learning to do," her mother said, "but I'm willing to give it a try if you are."

Natalie turned tear-filled eyes to John and asked, "Would you mind giving us a minute?"

"No problem," he said, "I'll be over at the pool table." Before he could think better of it, he kissed her on the forehead as he stood up and walked away.

"He seems to be a good man," Viki said once he was out of earshot, "and he obviously cares very deeply for you." Natalie bit her lip, unable to bring herself to tell her mother how wrong she was about this particular subject.

John was starting on a second game when he heard a voice behind him ask, "You sure you want to angle it like that?"

He turned to see Natalie standing behind him, her eyes were red but she was smiling. "You think you can do better?" he asked with a grin.

"Rack 'em up," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Where's your mom?" he asked as he reset the table.

"She went to the ladies room to get herself together," she said, "thanks for giving us some time to talk. And thanks for making me come in."

"Anytime," he said handing her a cue, "so it went well?"

"Yeah," she said sounding as if she still couldn't quite believe it herself, "I mean it was rough, but I think we said a lot of things we needed to and we understand each other a lot better now. She's actually going to come with me to my OB appointment on Thursday."

"That's great," he said, unsure why he felt hurt that she hadn't asked him. Why would she ask him when he was only pretending to be the father? "You wanna break?" he asked.

Natalie nodded and started the game. He watched her move around the table trying to drive from his mind the last time they'd been at this pool table; the first time they'd almost made love. She was good and he found himself wondering if her clumsiness that night had been a set up, a hustle that got interrupted by the chemistry between them. Or maybe that kiss was what she was trying to set up in the first place.

"Don't think about it too hard," she said snapping him back to his senses, "Smoke's going to start coming out of your ears in a minute." It took him a moment to realize that it was his turn; he'd gotten so caught up in the memory that he wasn't paying attention. He made his first shot but missed his second and stood to find Natalie just as distracted as he'd been before. Her thoughts were on a different matter, he suspected, based on the hand placed lightly on her stomach that accompanied her dreamy smile.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said looking a little embarrassed, "she's just really active tonight."

"She?" he asked.

She blushed, "Maybe. I don't know. It was too early to tell at the last sonogram. But I didn't like calling my baby 'it' and, I don't know, it feels like she's a girl."

"Well in my experience mother's intuition is almost as reliable as an ultrasound," Viki said joining them.

"Hey Mom," Natalie said jumping slightly. John could already see how much easier the relationship between the two of them had become. "I hope you don't mind—John and I were just playing a quick game."

"Not at all," she said, "I hope you don't mind my chiming in. But you know, I was right about the sex of all of my children. Even with you and Jessie as it turns out. I was convinced I was having twins and I was so confused when the doctor told me I was wrong."

"Well I don't really care either way," Natalie said.

Turning to John, Viki asked, "Have you been able to feel the baby move yet?"

"I think it's too early to feel from the outside," Natalie said quickly.

"Probably," her mother conceded, "But I always feel a bit sorry for fathers. I know they get out of the morning sickness and the swollen ankles and labor. But they also miss out on all that time a mother gets to know the baby before it's born."

"Yeah, I guess," Natalie said, unable to forget that the baby's real father might be dead and might simply think that his soon-to-be-ex-wife was having another man's baby.

Taking John's hand before he could stop her, Viki gently placed it on Natalie's abdomen, tucked discreetly just under the hem of her shirt. "Here, give it a try."

Natalie's skin flushed as red as her hair; she was shocked by her ordinarily demure mother's forward behavior—what was it about pregnancy that made people abandon standard rules of modesty? On top of that, there was the undeniably intimate sensation of John's hand on her bare flesh. Her eyes found John's; he shot her an embarrassed smile but made no attempt to remove his hand. She found herself short of breath and slightly lightheaded. "She stopped," she said, unsure why she was whispering, "but sometimes if I'm real still-"

John asked himself for the thousandth time what the hell he was doing. He was standing in the middle of a bar with his hand on the belly of a woman he had no business touching. Trying to feel the baby he had no claim to. While her mother watched no less! But he couldn't bring himself stop any more than he could make his pulse stop pounding as it had been since she approached the pool table.

"Bo?" Viki's voice finally gave John the strength to drop his hand as he and Natalie moved apart.

"Uncle Bo," Natalie stammered, still flushed, "What are you doing here?"

"I just came to pick up some take out," he said, "How are you doing, Nat?"

"I'm okay," she said.

Bo turned to John, "Agent McBain, I wanted to thank you for sticking around while we conduct our investigation."

"Didn't want to create a big jurisdictional thing," he shrugged.

"Well it's appreciated. I'm actually glad I ran into you," he said nodding at John and Natalie, "I'm going to need the two of you to come by the station and answer some questions."

"About Paul?" Natalie asked.

"Come now, Bo," Viki protested, "You can't possibly think that either of them had anything to do with Paul Cramer's death."

"Honestly I don't," he nodded, "but I do have to do my job. Which is why I want to eliminate them as suspects as soon as possible."

"I understand," Natalie said though to be honest the though of being questioned by the police made her a bit anxious.

"Does it have to be tonight?" John asked.

It was clear that Bo wanted to say 'yes' but after a moment's hesitation and looking between the three of them he said, "No. I hate to spoil your evening and I really don't think it's necessary. But only if you promise to come down first thing in the morning."

"Of course," he said.

"Well I'll leave you three alone," he said moving towards the bar to pick up his food, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I should actually be going myself," Viki said a moment later, "I have an early meeting at the university."

"Okay," Natalie said, surprised at the reluctance she felt to let her mother go, "Thank you for dinner."

"No, thank you," she said hugging her tightly, "I'm so glad we got to talk. Please call me if there's anything at all I can do for you."

"I will," she promised. Once her mother was gone and she'd verified that Bo was out the restaurant she turned to John and asked, "So what's going on? Why didn't you want to go down to the station and get it over with?"

John looked at his watch. "Because I need to leave for work in a few minutes."

"Work?" she asked looking at him quizzically.

"I work security for Santi Enterprises," he said matter-of-factly, "remember?"

"But that was just because you were working undercover," she hissed leaning closer so no one would overhear.

"Santi doesn't know that," he reminded her.

"But while you were working for the FBI you had back up if you needed it," she said as fear started to spread through her body, "you can't just go in there alone. It's too dangerous."

"It was dangerous before," he said, "If I'd really needed back up, chances are it wouldn't have gotten to me in time."

"But John-" she pleaded.

"Like you said," he told her, "I'm not one to give up on a case so easily. And who knows what I could turn up there?"

"Be careful," she said putting a hand on each of his shoulders.

"Always," he said looking down into those wide blue eyes and echoing her words earlier that day. He was trying to lighten the mood, but he still saw nothing but anxiety and fear in her eyes. Maybe he was just trying to make her relax, maybe it was an attempt to cheer her up, and maybe it was just the natural reaction to being around her all evening. But for some reason he never understood, he leaned down and brought his lips to hers.

It was hardly their first kiss, but most of them had been initiated by her. They had been impulsive, slightly crazed. Something about this kiss felt different. She kissed him back, relieved for the chance to shut out everything but him. Grateful for a chance to stop pretending she didn't want this. The kiss was long and tender and even when their lips separated they stood for a moment, resting their foreheads against each other.

"John?" Natalie finally murmured when she gathered enough oxygen.

"I have to go," he said. His voice wasn't cold, but it was firm, making it clear that argument wouldn't be allowed. "I'll call you later."

* * *

A short time later Natalie walked back into Asa's house still quietly reeling from the events of the night—from the much needed talk with her mother to the kiss from John which she couldn't quite make sense of. She jumped when Nigel approached her in the foyer with a cringing, "Miss Buchanan?"

"Nigel! You startled me!" she gasped.

"My apologies," he said, "Miss Cramer is waiting in the living room."

"Kevin's not here?" she asked blankly, unsure what this had to do with her.

"She says she's here to see you," he said sounding just as confused by that bit of information.

"Oh," she said realizing suddenly that this probably had something to do with Paul's murder. She mumbled a quick thank you to Nigel as she walked into the living room and shut the door behind her. Kelly stood up to meet her; she was wringing her hands, a look of panic on her face.

"Have you said anything to the police?" she asked desperately.

"Not yet," Natalie replied keeping her voice even, "I'm meeting with Uncle Bo tomorrow."

"He told you about Ace, didn't he?"

It took Natalie a moment to realize that the 'he' in question had switched to Paul. In truth, Paul had never discussed their mutual nephew with her, but she didn't see any reason Kelly needed to know that. She also knew the less she said, the better chance she had of maintaining the illusion that she knew, so she nodded mutely.

"I can only imagine how it all looks to you," she said beginning to pace, "but you're going to be a mother soon, so maybe you can understand. I don't know if I could survive losing my son. Not again."

"Maybe," Natalie said careful to keep her voice as neutral as possible, "but I also understand I have no intention of having _my_ child in jail on account of a crime I didn't commit."

"I wouldn't ask you to!" Kelly said sharply, "I… Did he ever tell you who Ace's real mother was?"

Natalie shook her head, restraining herself from reacting to what her former sister-in-law had just said—was it possible that Ace was someone else's child? "I wanted to know. Did he tell you that? Ever since he told me that Ace's mother didn't want to give him up—I don't even know if it's true, but that's all I can think about. What if my baby was out there somewhere and I didn't know where he was? But how do I give my son to a stranger? I just wanted to find out who she was so I could see, you know?"

"Kelly," Natalie said slowly, "I won't tell anyone, but I need to know. Did you do this?"

"No!" she said, "You really think I'd kill my own brother?"

"I don't know you that well, Kelly," she said honestly, "all I know is you had reason to want him quiet."

"But I also had a reason to want him alive," she insisted, "He had information I needed to know."

"Do you think that he had proof of any of this?" Natalie asked, "documents or-"

"I don't know," she said pacing around the room, "I went to his room today but the police had it blocked off. I don't know whether to hope he does or not. If he didn't leave anything behind, I don't know how I'll ever find out who Ace's mother was. But if he did and the police find it first… I've been waiting all day for the police to show up or to hear that they've taken Ace into protective custody."

"Even if he did have something, the police might not find it," Natalie said sitting down, "we think whoever killed him might have broken into his room afterwards."

Kelly sat down across from her and gave her a look of confusion. "What do you mean 'we'?"

"Nevermind," she said quickly, "listen, Kelly, do you know of anywhere else Paul might have stored information? A safety deposit box? A-?"

"I don't know if this would help, but I know his email password," she offered, "one of the times he was arrested he called me and needed me to get something out of an email. The thing is that he was very insistent that I not go through his old emails. I thought it was kind of strange, but maybe there was something in there he didn't want me to see."

"Must have been," Natalie said, somewhat annoyed at the time required for Kelly to come to such an obvious conclusion. "You know the password?"

"I have it saved on my computer at home," she explained.

"Okay," she said, her mind racing, "go home and get it and call me as soon as you do."

"I will," she said standing up, "Natalie, what are you going to tell the police tomorrow?"

"The truth," she said, "but no more of it than I have to. I don't think the police are going to ask me about you or Kevin or Ace. They just want to know about my relationship with Paul."

"Thank you," she said desperately as she made her way to the door.

As soon as the door closed behind her Natalie grabbed her cell phone and dialed John. His phone must have been off because it went directly to voicemail. "Hey, I know you're working," she said, "but call me as soon as you get this. Kelly Cramer was just here. I have something to tell you."

* * *

John was grateful to be working the night shift—there were fewer people around and it made it easier for him to look around unnoticed. He'd also noticed that the other guys working around the office building were more relaxed at night and might be more likely to say something that would help him. Tonight something seemed off though—there was an unusual amount of activity around the warehouse and the other security guards seemed edgy.

"You heard about Cramer?" one of them, a man named Matthews asked him when he stopped to pour himself a cup of coffee.

He nodded, not wanting to give a response to the murder until he knew how the other man felt about it.

"I mean he was a punk," Matthews shrugged, "bit off more than he could chew. But it kinda brings it all home, doesn't it? You can't fuck up around here."

Years of experience kept him from reacting, but he was thrilled with what the man had just said. It was a long way from proof, but clearly one of Santi's men believed it was Paul's work for the Santis that had gotten him killed. Before he had a chance to discreetly probe the man to find out exactly how much he knew, they were interrupted by David Sotelo, the head of security for Santi Enterprises Llanview. Sotelo's presence alone was enough to set off alarm bells in his mind—he'd never seen the man work at night in the time he'd been working there.

"How's it going, Matthews?"

"Good sir," he said. Taking the hint from Sotelo, Matthews drained the rest of his coffee and left them alone.

Sotelo studied John slowly, looking him up and down before saying, "McBain, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course, sir," he said taking a drink of his coffee.

"You've been doing good work around here," he said, "the boss is very happy with you. And you don't talk a lot—I like that about you. Means you know how to be discreet. That can be real important in our line of work."

"Thank you," he said.

"I know you've got a baby on the way," he continued. John's gut clenched for a moment, wondering if Sotelo was about to make a threat against Natalie and the baby, but it seemed he had another angle in mind. "I hear the kid's mother is some heiress, I imagine you're worried about providing for them the way she's used to."

"Not gonna lie," he nodded, trying to play the part.

"I wondered if you might be interested in taking on some added responsibility," he said, "it would mean extra income of the untaxed variety."

"What would that entail?" John asked worried that if he seemed too eager it would arouse suspicion.

"Not asking too many questions, for starters," he replied.

He pretended to take his time, considering the matter before he finally said, "Well I could definitely use some extra cash right now. And like you said, I don't like to talk too much."

"Great," he smiled. He handed a black briefcase he'd been carrying to him, "The first thing I need you to do is very simple—take this over to the corporate offices. Just show your badge and they'll let you in. There's a safe room on the third floor, do you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"I need you to take this in there. You'll see three file cabinets in a row—put this in the second drawer of the third cabinet." John nodded his understanding and Sotelo slipped him a key and a piece of paper. "This is the key for the cabinet. This is the combination to the safe room. Bring the key back here as soon as you're done and don't leave that paper lying around."

"Understood," he nodded.

As soon as John got in his car and pulled away from the warehouse he tried the latch on the briefcase, not the slightest bit surprised to find it locked. He knew from looking at it that it would be simple enough to pick, but the problem was doing it without getting caught. Once he arrived at the office building he'd be watched either by other guards or security cameras. A glance in his rearview confirmed he wasn't being followed—at this hour the streets were deserted and there was no where for another vehicle to hide. But they probably knew to expect him at the other building and would know if he was delayed—he'd have to work quickly.

Without stopping the car he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. He managed to open the lock while stopped at a red light and carefully opened the case keeping his eyes on the road. At the next stop light he paged through the papers, photos, and newspaper clippings taking pictures with his cell phone as best his could.

This was why started working for Tico Santi—the opportunity to turn up something like this. He had no doubt these materials had been taken from Cramer's room in the hours following his death, probably at the hands of a Santi hit man. It wouldn't be enough to prove Santi as a mob kingpin but it would implicate him in Cramer's death and go a long way towards proving corruption charges.

Unfortunately, Tico Santi wouldn't be the only one implicated if these became public. There were reasons his superiors thought he was too close to this case and maybe they were right. There had been a time not so long ago when he wouldn't have cared who was implicated by these documents. As it was, his first thought was that he needed to warn Natalie.

To be continued…


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note:** This is kind of the deus ex machina wrap up I was praying for about five chapters ago. Hopefully it's a somewhat logical progression. So much happens in this chapter I'm afraid it might be a bit confusing… Thanks as always for all your feedback on this story. It's almost over, but there's one more complication left to deal with.

* * *

They met in John's room early the next morning—John had only gotten off work an hour earlier and hadn't slept at all. Fortunately, the sudden strides he'd made in the case over the last couple hours had his adrenaline pumping sufficiently to keep him awake. Natalie hadn't slept much either—the knowledge that the baby down the hall was probably _not_ her nephew kept her up and when she finally did fall asleep she was plagued by nightmares about finding out that the baby she was carrying wasn't hers after all.

"You all right?" John asked as she walked in with visible circles under her eyes.

"Other than being sleep deprived and unable to have coffee?" she said, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"So what did you find out from Cramer's sister?" he asked shutting the door behind her.

"The reason he was blackmailing her," she said, "and probably Kevin too." John already knew what she was going to say, but he let her continue. "I don't quite understand it, but apparently their son Ace isn't really their son. From what she said it sounds like Paul helped her get the baby and told her the mother wanted to give him up but then later said that she didn't… I couldn't follow all of it because I was playing along like I already knew and… this looks bad for my brother and Kelly, doesn't it?"

"Not necessarily," he said.

Natalie frowned with confusion. "How could it possibly not?"

"Well the stuff with the baby's bad," he agreed, "and they'll have to deal with the police on that, but I don't think they're guilty of Cramer's murder."

"Well I don't see either one of them as capable of murder," she said, "but I don't see myself either and if I thought someone was trying to take away my baby…. If they thought they were in danger of losing their son, who knows what they could have done."

"Maybe they could have," he said, "but I think someone beat them to it."

"You found something?"

He nodded. "I was given a briefcase to transport last night. I wasn't supposed to look inside, but I did. It was documents detailing what you just told me and I'm betting they were taken out of Cramer's room after he was killed."

"You think Tico killed Paul to get them?"

"No," he said shaking his head, "I'd guess that Cramer was killed for something else. Most likely his unfortunate combination of incompetence and a big mouth. But I think Santi had reasons for wanting possession of these documents."

"Why does Tico care about Kevin and Kelly?"

"Because Tico Santi was one of the biggest contributors to your brother's campaign. Clearly he wants a guy he can control. Maybe campaign contributions weren't enough to keep your brother in line."

"That son of a bitch," Natalie said.

"Basically," he nodded, "I was able to snap pictures of a bunch of the documents. It's enough to implicate Santi in Cramer's death. Not nearly enough for a conviction, but it's a start. Might be enough to order a search and that might turn up something. We can also get him on corruption charges if we can find a way to prove that he intends to use these against Kevin."

"How do we do that?" she asked.

"I haven't gotten that far," he said, his mind still racing, "We'll probably need to get Kevin's cooperation. The big issue so far is, I still don't have anything concrete that fingers Tico as the new head of the Santi syndicate."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Natalie said as something occurred to her, "Kelly also told me she thinks there might have been something incriminating in Paul's email account. He had her check it for him one time and was really determined that she not look around. She thought she had the password saved, but he must have changed it because I couldn't get into the account."

John thought about it for a moment. "I'm probably going to wind up regretting this, but do you happen to know anyone who's good at hacking into stuff like that?"

She smiled. "Rex. I almost called him myself but I wanted to run it by you first."

"Can you have him meet us? I need to talk to him anyway—he can connect Cramer to the Santis."

"He can?" she asked quizzically.

"Yeah, I'll explain later, just call him."

Natalie pulled out her cell phone. "Should I have him come here?"

"Yeah, that'll work," he said as she dialed, "just make sure he gets here fast."

Natalie made the phone call quickly—she didn't explain why he needed to come but Rex sensed the urgency in her voice and promised to be there in ten minutes. As she put her phone back in her purse she looked at John nervously.

"What?" he asked, catching her gaze.

"Is there anyway you can talk to Rex without me?"

His brow furrowed. "You have somewhere to be?"

"Not exactly," she said, "It's just… Kevin's my brother too and if this is all going to come out, I feel like I should warn him."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, "if we warn him he could-"

"Cover his tracks?" she asked, "it's a little late for him to do that when we already have the evidence. What's he going to do, leave town? He's the Lieutenant Governor, where's he going to hide? Besides, you said you might need his help."

"I guess," he conceded.

"So I can go talk to him while you talk to Rex?"

"Yeah," he sighed pulling out his notebook, "write down Cramer's email and the old password for me. It might give him a starting place for figuring out the new one."

Natalie obeyed and as she returned the notebook to him, their fingers brushed. The electricity of the contact reminded her that they had another important matter to discuss. "John… last night when you were leaving for work…"

"Can we _not_ talk about that?" he asked knowing immediately what she was referring to.

Folding her arms she asked, "What? I'm just supposed to forget that you kissed me?"

"Yeah," he said quickly, "that's what you're supposed to do. It was a mistake and-"

"A mistake?" she demanded angrily.

John shut his eyes, worried he'd lose courage if he had to look into hers, and said, "I think we have more important things to worry about right now."

"Okay," she relented. He opened his eyes, surprised to hear her give up so easily and noticed that her look of determination hadn't wavered. "You're right," she said, "this case seems to be breaking wide open and we need to focus on that. But it looks like it's going to be wrapped up soon and then you're going to be out of excuses."

* * *

Natalie tracked Kevin to his office. Ignoring the secretary's plea to wait, she marched in without waiting to be announced.

"Natalie?" he asked standing up in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Taking a deep breath she tried to curb her anger and remind herself that this was her brother. She didn't even know for sure how involved he was—she owed it to him to find out before exploding. "We need to talk," she said shutting the office door behind her.

Kevin looked at her in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"Kelly came to see me yesterday," she explained.

"Why would Kelly come to see you?" he asked as she sat down across from him.

"I had gone to see her earlier about Paul."

"The murder?"

She nodded. "Kevin, I'm a suspect and so is John and there's no way I can just sit back and let either one of us go down for a crime somebody else committed."

"And what? You think Kelly did it?" Kevin asked raising an eyebrow, "Natalie, I know she's not the most mentally stable person, but I don't think she's capable of murder."

"That's what I would have said too," she said, "except…" Her hand wandered down to her stomach, "When I first found out I was pregnant, I didn't even want this baby. But now, if someone tried to hurt my baby or take it away from me, I can't tell you what I'd be capable of."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his body visibly tensing.

"Kelly told me about Ace," she said.

"Oh," was all he managed to say as he sunk back down into his chair.

Now certain that her brother did know the truth about his son, Natalie shook her head. "Kevin how could you? After everything this family has been through? After what I went through, thinking I was someone else-?"

"I didn't know at first," he said, "and when I finally did find out… he told Kelly that the mother was a homeless person who gave the baby away. I thought we could give him a better life. And then he starts saying that's all a lie, but how do you trust anything that comes out of Cramer's mouth? So-"

"So you let him blackmail you?" she supplied.

"Yeah," he said closing his eyes, "me and Kelly both did. But that doesn't mean either of us killed him!"

"I know you didn't," she assured him.

"Then why are we having this conversation?" he asked irritably.

"Because I'm not the only one who knows!" she said sharply.

"Who else?" he asked, sounding somewhat stunned.

"Tico Santi."

Kevin blinked at her. "Why would Tico know? For that matter, why would he care?"

"Come on, Kevin," she groaned, "did you really think Paul Cramer was the only one who would benefit from blackmailing the Lieutenant Governor?"

"You're starting to sound like Antonio," he said rolling his eyes, "Tico's a good guy. He half financed my campaign."

"Did you never ask why?" she shot back, "He's a criminal—he's not a nice guy. Kevin, Tico is the one behind my almost getting shot at Rex's that night. Just so he could make sure there were no other possible Santi heirs out there."

"You have proof of this?" he asked.

"Sort of," she said uneasily, "but I can't tell you about it yet."

"Yet?"

Natalie leaned forward, "Kevin, I came here to warn you. All this is going to come out. Probably today. And I shouldn't have come here at all, but I couldn't bear the thought of ambushing you with this."

"Thanks," he said numbly.

Keeping her eyes locked with his so that he could understand how serious this was she said, "I know that this is a lot to take in and I've told you a lot of things you might not quite believe. And if I know you, your first thought is that you need to call your lawyer. But Kevin, you can't say anything to anyone at all. If you do, you'll be putting lives in danger. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," he said. Natalie stood and went to leave. As she opened the door he called after her, "Thank you. I know you didn't have to come here."

She didn't know how to respond. She wanted to reassure him, tell him that things would be okay, but she knew in all likelihood they wouldn't. And she couldn't apologize to him because she knew his involvement wasn't entirely against his will. Forcing a small smile she said the only consolation she could offer, "This is almost over."

* * *

A short time later John and Natalie walked into the LPD; the receptionist recognized them and nodded. "You're uncle's expecting you," she said picking up a phone, "I'll let him know you're here."

A moment after she notified Bo of their arrival, he stepped out of his office. "Natalie, McBain, thank you for coming in."

"No problem," John said.

"I'd like to speak with you separately," he said.

"I'll go first," Natalie volunteered. Bo nodded and she smiled back at John one last time as she followed her uncle into his office. John glanced down at the phone in his hand, willing it to ring before she was done.

"Have a seat," Bo said motioning to the seat in front of his desk. Natalie settled down, unsure why she was so nervous—she knew she hadn't done anything and they were about to have proof that someone else was responsible. "There's no need to be nervous," he said as if reading her thoughts, "This is just a formality. I don't really believe you were dragging a body around while four months pregnant. I just need you to tell me where you were the night Paul was killed."

"I was at home—at Asa's," she said.

"Can anyone vouch for that?" he asked as he began writing.

"Security," she said.

Bo looked up at her skeptically, "Anyone who knows you isn't going to doubt that you could sneak past security guards."

Natalie glanced towards the door expectantly; John would let her know if there was any further progress, wouldn't he? "I saw Kevin when I went down to the kitchen to make some tea," she said, "which Nigel wound up making for me because he says Americans don't do it right."

"What time was that?" he asked.

"Probably between 9:30 and 10:00," she said.

Bo scribbled some more and she suspected he was just as interested in Kevin's whereabouts as hers. "When was the last time you saw Cramer?"

"About a month ago," she said, "the night he and John had the fight."

"Did he call you or contact you anytime after that?"

She shook her head, "I think he got the picture after that. I had someone else call him about the paternity test results."

"Did you-"

Bo's door opened and John poked his head in. "I'm sorry, sir, could you come out here?"

Without questioning, Bo rose and walked from his office. Natalie followed him. Sonia Toledo and Antonio Vega were standing beside the receptionist's desk with a man Natalie didn't recognize standing between them in handcuffs. Bo looked around the room clearly confused.

Sonia stepped forward and pulled a badge out of her pocket. "Sonia Toledo, International Narcotics and Law Enforcement."

"Ah…" Bo said finally understanding the reasons he had been ordered to release her all those months ago, "that explains a lot."

"I apologize for the secrecy," she said, "but I've been deep undercover for over a year and we couldn't risk compromising my position. Also, for the record, Antonio has been working with me on this all along, he never turned his back on the law."

"I understand," he said, "but why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I believe that the case I've been working is over," she said. She motioned to the man beside her, "This is Alan Matthews, he works security for Santi Enterprises. We took him into custody this morning at the request of Agent McBain."

"Who's not supposed to be working right now," Bo mumbled with a sideways glance at John.

Ignoring his comment, Sonia continued, "In exchange for immunity and anonymity, Mr. Matthews is willing to testify that Paul Cramer was working for my brother Tico in an unofficial capacity. He can also attest to numerous illegal and semi-legal activities he has been aware of during his time at Santi Enterprises primarily contraband shipments brought through Santi warehouses. He was also given the strong impression that my brother ordered Cramer's murder because he failed to carry out tasks he was hired for."

"We can't charge Tico with murder because someone had the impression he was responsible," Bo pointed out.

"Obviously," Sonia nodded, "but I think we can prove probable cause when you hear why."

Turning directly to Matthews, he asked, "Okay, why did Santi order Cramer's death?"

Matthews looked at the floor and answered, "Cramer was hired to oversee the elimination of other potential Santi heirs including Adriana Cramer, Carlotta Vega and her granddaughter, Cristian Vega, and Natalie Vega. He failed on all counts"

"You're sure about this?" Bo asked.

Matthews nodded mutely. Antonio elbowed him hard in the ribs and said, "Tell him how you're sure. You owe it to her to tell her."

Natalie looked up startled at the word 'her' knowing in all probability it referred to her. Matthews glanced at her fearfully for a moment before turning his eyes back to the floor. "I was one of the shooters who fired at the apartment where Ms. Vega was staying with her brother that night. I'm sorry."

Feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, Natalie stared at the man in front of her. He was a stranger and he had tried to kill her and her unborn child. Why? She didn't think she wanted to know. It was probably nothing but money and she didn't need to hear that out loud.

John put a hand on her arm which steadied her immediately. "You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah." Looking angrily at Matthews she added, "I _am_ okay. You failed."

"I'm glad," he said.

For some reason his impotent apology sent anger coursing through her body and she fought the urge to charge at him. She might not have been able to resist if it were not for Rex bounding into the room at that moment clutching a laptop and proclaiming, "Victory is mine!"

"Did you get it?" Natalie asked excitedly all thoughts of her would-be-assassin abandoned.

"How much do you love your baby brother?" he asked his eyes twinkling.

"If you found something incriminating I'll name my first born child after you," she said with a grin.

Rex shook his head, "If you love me and you love your child, don't. It's a better name for a dog than a baby."

"Balsom, what the hell is this about?" Bo demanded.

"Uncle Bo, I just helped you cinch this case," he said putting and arm around Bo's shoulders.

Bo shrugged him off with disdain that barely masked his affection for the young man, "For the last time, Balsom, I'm not your uncle."

"But you're gonna wish you were," he said practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"What did you get?" John asked.

"Cramer—that little weasel had enough dirt on Tico Santi saved in his email account to bury him. Photos, lists of names, dates and cargos for ships bringing contraband and where it all ended up. No wonder Santi had him killed."

"And how, exactly, do you know what's in Paul Cramer's email account?" Bo asked sternly.

"I hacked into it," he replied nonchalantly.

"At my request," John said speaking up, "We had permission from Cramer's next of kin. Balsom had already informed for the FBI about the Santis and-"

"You remember that you're suspended from the FBI?" Bo reminded him, "And not that I'm in a position to turn down evidence, but your method of obtaining it was barely this side of legal and it's still bordering on circumstantial."

"Can we at least take a look at it?" John asked.

Before Bo could respond, Natalie spoke up suddenly. "Kevin?"

Everyone turned to see Kevin Buchanan wandering into the PD looking slightly stunned. "Kevin?" Bo repeated, "Is something wrong?"

Seeking Natalie out with his eyes, Kevin said, "I think you were right."

Crossing to him, she put a hand on his arm and asked, "What happened?"

"Tico just called me," he said sounding dazed, "said he needed to meet with me today. That it was about my political future."

Bo shook his head and stepped closer to them, clearly annoyed to be so out of the loop. "Okay, what does Kevin have to do with any of this?"

"Tico Santi has some incriminating evidence against the Lieutenant Governor," John explained, "evidence we believe he had stolen from Cramer's room after his death so that he could use it as leverage."

"Kevin?" Bo said giving his nephew a look that was stern but not devoid of compassion, "what does he have on you? What have you done?"

Kevin fumbled futilely for words until John jumped to his rescue, "We can deal with all of that later. At the moment we need to figure out how to handle Santi." Turning to Kevin he asked, "What did you tell him about meeting?"

"He didn't give me an option. He's going to be at my office at 1:00 and made it very clear that I should be there."

John nodded. "I'd like for him to go that meeting as planned, but wearing a wire."

Bo sighed. "I'm going to remind you again, Agent McBain, that you're suspended and in no position to-"

"INL is more than happy to arrange it," Sonia said, speaking up.

"No, no," he said quickly, "the LPD can handle this. Kevin, can _you_ handle this?"

Kevin thought about it for a moment and nodded. "Yeah," he said, "it's the least I can do."

Bo looked at his watch. "Okay, then, we have a little over two hours to get this all set up. Balsom, I want you to go with Samsa and get hard copy print outs of everything in that email account before someone else hacks in and deletes it. Kevin, come with me and we'll get you set up. Someone take this guy," he said motioning to Matthews, "down to lock up."

As everyone began to disperse, Natalie caught John's eye and he smiled. "We've almost got him," she said softly.

"Oh we've got him," he said, "just a matter of wrapping everything up. You know, for a bartender, you made a pretty good detective."

"Really?" she asked beaming. He nodded. "I haven't told anyone but Bo this," she said getting a dreamy smile on her face, "but I was thinking about it. Before I found out I was pregnant, I was thinking about joining the forensics training program here."

"And now?"

"Well it kind of complicates things," she said patting her stomach, "but it makes me want it even more. I want to do something that will make my baby proud."

"Well if you ever need a recommendation," he said, "just let me know."

To be continued…


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's note:** It's very scary posting a chapter like this. Knowing you're going to make your readers want to beat you. But it has to happen like this, I swear. All will become clear eventually. This one is almost done and I can't thank you all enough for hanging on for this long. Thanks so much for your feedback, you have no idea how much that helps me.

* * *

John folded the last of his shirts and placed it in the suitcase. Even with everything packed it was still half empty—he traveled light. Looking around the bare room which had just started to feel something like home he tried to remind himself that he liked it that way. Tried to convince himself that he was leaving Llanview exactly as he had arrived. That the case was over and would soon be forgotten like all the others he'd worked.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

He turned in the direction of the knocking and glared at the door. He just wanted tonight to be over so he could get in his car and drive to Philadelphia and try to go back to his old life with no attachments, no personal drama. No blue eyes gazing at him with an affection he didn't deserve, trusting him for a security he could never provide.

"I know you're in there Johnny and I'm not going away until you open this door!"

With a sigh John walked to the door gave his brother an icy stare. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Michael asked clearly taken aback by the question. "Well I heard you were leaving town and I figured it might be another five years before I see you again. So I thought maybe if you were done busting crime lords, solving murders, and saving damsels in distress you could have one last drink with your brother."

John felt a pang of regret; in the two and a half months since he'd come to Llanview he'd spent very little time with his brother. A drink was the least he owed him for using him as a cover from the start. "Yeah, I can do that," he said grabbing his wallet.

As they walked into Rodi's the symmetry wasn't lost on him at all and he thought back to his first night in town. This was where it all started. That night had been the real start of this case, the first time he'd seen Paul Cramer, the night he met Natalie. He was surprised to see a familiar red head behind the bar. He'd been avoiding her since Tico's arrest that morning; he knew she would want to talk and he knew he couldn't give her the answers she wanted.

"Hey," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I was worried you were going to leave without saying goodbye."

"I'm forcing him to let me buy him a drink," Michael explained, "making him at least pretend to be social."

"I didn't know you were back working here," John said.

"First day," she said shyly as she handed them each a bottle of beer, "and it's not going to be for long. I don't think I'm going to be able to take long hours on my feet. But I was sick of just sitting around the house, you know? So this is just temporary until I figure out what I want to do with my life."

As she moved away to help other customers a firm hand clapped him on the shoulder causing him to turn around. "Agent McBain," Bo Buchanan said extending his hand, "I just wanted to thank you for all your work on the Santi and Cramer cases."

"Just doing my job," he said.

"Even when you were officially suspended?" he said pointedly. John looked down and didn't respond. "Well, I think the Bureau will get over it considering you managed to break up a major crime syndicate. But if they don't, there's a spot at the LPD with your name on it."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said though they both knew he had no intention of staying in town.

"Natalie told us everything," Bo continued, "I can't say I completely approve of the way you two lied to everyone about the baby, but I understand that you were trying to keep her safe and I appreciate that."

"Thank you for understanding," he said wondering if could be so magnanimous if it were his niece involved. Over Bo's shoulder he spotted the blonde head of Victoria Davidson; she looked out of place and a little lost, but her face brightened when she saw the two of them.

"Mrs. Davidson," John said extending his hand. He was a bit apprehensive, not knowing yet how she was reacting to the truth about him and Natalie and their nonexistent relationship.

"Agent McBain," she said, "I'm so glad I got to see you before you left town."

"What brings you here, Vik?" Bo asked.

"I just came to see how Natalie was doing on her first night back," she explained, "but I'd actually like to speak to Agent McBain privately for a moment if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Bo said although John wished he hadn't; he expected this conversation was not going to be pleasant. Nonetheless, he allowed Viki to lead him to a corner of the restaurant where they could speak in relative privacy.

"I've had some very difficult conversations with two of my children over the last couple days," she began. "It seems they've both been lying about the paternity of their children which I suppose shouldn't be so altogether surprising considering the history of our family."

"I'm sorry that we had to involve your son in this investigation," he said. He knew it was inadequate consolation to offer a woman who was about to lose her grandson, but it was all he could think to say.

"Don't be," she said shaking her head, "Kevin got himself involved when he didn't report the truth about Ace's parentage as soon as he learned about it. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh," he said looking at the floor and anticipating a tongue lashing about everything that had happened with Natalie.

"I just wanted to thank you," she said gently, "for everything that you did on this case. Even if it made some hard truths come out, I know this is going to be a big help to our family in the long run. But most of all I need to thank you for everything you've done for Natalie. You went out of your way to keep her safe and you were there for her at a time when her family had failed her and she very much needed a friend."

"It was no big deal," he said uncomfortable with her praise, "Natalie she… she's been through a lot, but she's a special kid."

"Yes, she is," Viki nodded.

"And she helped me out too," he added.

"Yes, I heard from Bo about her assistance on the Cramer investigation," she said, "John… I'm overstepping, I know, but… I also wanted to thank you for loving my daughter."

John looked up at her startled. "Mrs. Davidson, I thought she explained to you-"

"Oh yes, she explained that you're not lovers," she said with a knowing smile, "she explained that the paternity test identifying you as the father was forged. I know all about it. But I also know that I've seen the way you look at her. I saw the two of you here that night we had dinner. And there is no doubt in my mind that what I saw was love. Love in one of its most unselfish forms. And I think Natalie needed that very much."

"Natalie doesn't really need someone like me in her life," he said, "but you're right that she should be around people who love her. That's why I'm glad things are working out better between you two."

Viki tilted her head slightly to the side and studied him. "So I take it you two haven't discussed the future."

"There is no future with me and Natalie," he said, "I leave town tomorrow."

Viki's mouth curled into a smile that was almost smug as she said, "Just remember, sometimes the future doesn't work out exactly as we expect. But thank you again, John. Have a safe trip home."

John wandered back to his brother, inexplicably rattled by his conversation with Viki. She was confused, he told himself. She just wasn't used to seeing someone who worked undercover for a living and knew how to play a part. He just hoped she wouldn't voice her beliefs to her daughter.

"So bro," Michael said, "I'm in Philly for a conference in March. Any chance we could meet up?"

"Yeah," he said, "that would be nice." His eyes drifted to Natalie, waiting on another customer at the other end of the bar. She glowed. He imagined she was probably approaching what she had been before Cristian Vega broke her heart—she was finding a way to be happy again. She would be all right. He tried not to let himself think about who she'd be all right with.

"You should come out for Christmas," Michael said, "spend it with Marcie and me. Better than spending it alone."

"I don't know, Mike," he said, "I usually have to work Christmas." He watched one of her hands drop unconsciously to her belly and wondered what her baby would look like. He couldn't come back for Christmas; somehow he didn't think he could handle Natalie just across town celebrating her baby's first Christmas without him. Where had he messed up? Where had the charade become so convincing that even he had a hard time remembering it wasn't real?

"You know, not for nothing," Michael said, "but I _did_ ask you here so you could have a drink with the kid brother you never see, not so you could gawk at the bartender."

"I'm not-"

Michael didn't give him a chance to protest. "Seriously," he said, "who do you two think you're fooling?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said shaking his head.

"You like a girl," Michael said, "It's not the end of the world. Hell, it could be the exact opposite."

"It's not that simple," he said taking a large swallow of his beer.

"Only if you don't let it be," his brother insisted, "look, I'm not saying ask the girl to marry you. Yet. You could try something along the lines of 'Hey, here's my number in Philly, maybe you could come visit some time.'"

"How about, 'Hey, I live my life with bullets whizzing past my head. Maybe you want to bring your kid and join me,'" he shot back.

Michael shook his head. "Forgetting for the moment that your whole notion that life with you is a death sentence is ridiculous, Natalie's a grown woman. Shouldn't it be her choice?"

John killed his beer and glared at his brother. "It's a choice I can't let her make."

* * *

John paced the length of his room, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep and praying for morning. There was a knock at his door. It was gentle, almost timid. Definitely not Michael again. Against his better judgment he crossed the room and opened it, not very surprised to see Natalie standing there.

"We didn't get much of a chance to talk at Rodi's," she said.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, surprised when his voice came out more hoarse than usual, "I'm sure you're ready to get off your feet."

"Then invite me in so I can sit down," she said without flinching.

Obediently he stepped to the side to let her enter and she sat down on the bed beside his opened suitcase. "You all packed?" she asked.

"I travel light," he said.

She laughed, "That's bullshit and we both know it. I don't know if I've ever met anyone who carries around half the baggage you do. Unless it's me."

"All the more reason you shouldn't be here," he said.

She ignored him and changed the subject. "Cristian came by after you left."

His eyes widened with concern, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, "I wanted to point out to him it might be in poor taste his showing up there considering the last time he showed up while I was working he shot me. But I figured I should play gracious considering he just found out this morning I've been lying to him about you and the paternity test and everything."

"How did he take that?"

"He was upset, obviously. But I guess also maybe a little excited to find out the baby might be his after all. His lawyer wanted to look into pressing charges against me over the paternity test, but he told her not to. He was surprisingly understanding about me wanting to keep the baby safe from Santi hitmen."

"That's nice of him," John said though an irrational part of him hated the idea of her getting along so well with her ex.

"Meh," she said, "according to my lawyer because I never officially presented the test as a legal document they didn't have much of a case anyway. But I think the important thing is, we're both ready to move on with our lives."

"I hope Cristian turns out to be the father," he said half sitting on the dresser across from her, "no kid should have to grow up without a father."

She looked at him curiously. "You know, I'd started to think maybe you were interested in that job."

He looked away. "Sometimes when you're playing a part the line between reality and the fiction gets blurry," he said as much to himself as to her.

"Right," she said forcing a bitter laugh. She was quiet a moment before changing the subject. "I talked to Uncle Bo and he said that if I start with the new forensic training class next month he thinks we can work everything out around my pregnancy. It'll mean a lot of studying while I'm on maternity leave, but I'm going to move back in with my mom, so I'll have help."

"Great," he said.

"But I could still manage trips to Philadelphia here and there," she added pointedly.

John looked at the floor. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"And does what I think matter?" she asked, the intensity of her gaze never wavering.

"Natalie," he sighed, "I can't-"

She stood up and took two steps towards them, standing only a few feet away and said, "John, I told you that once the case was over we were going to have to talk about us."

"There_is _no us!" he said sharply.

"Right," she said anger flashing in her eyes, "I just imagined that kiss the other night at Rodi's. That look in your eyes the night Paul beat me up. I just imagined your hand down my pants that night on the roof when we were _this close_ to making love."

"Okay, maybe there is something," he conceded, "but it can't happen."

"Why not?" she pleaded.

"Because it's too dangerous," he said turning his back on her and taking a step away.

"John, sometimes you just have to jump!" she insisted.

He turned back to her. She made it sound so easy—to give in, to let himself collapse into her arms. To forget about the price she might ultimately pay for his reckless behavior. "If it were just me," he managed to say, "Maybe I could. But I can't let you fall. I'm sorry."

"I'm hardly an innocent victim here," she said, "this isn't something that just happened to me. I made the choice to make the leap… I can deal with the landing."

He closed his eyes, because if he kept looking into hers he was going to crack. "Natalie," he pleaded, his voice cracking, "please go."

"You don't really want that," she said moving so close he could feel her breath on his face.

"It's not about what I want," he said, "It's what I need. And what you need."

"Fine," she said, her voice beginning to quiver for the first time that night. Relief that she was giving in washed over him but as he opened his eyes her arm snaked around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. He knew he'd never forget the way she tasted, the velvet of her lips as they moved against his, the skill with which her tongue probed his mouth. But he also knew he'd rather be haunted by her memory than her actual ghost. Finally he managed to force himself to break the kiss, but his voice refused to return. She studied his face while she struggled to regain her breath and finally said in a voice just above a whisper, "Goodbye, John."

He closed his eyes again, but with his ears he could see clearly enough as she walked to the door and shut it gently behind her. Part of him wanted to run after her, but he couldn't force his body to move. He didn't know how long he stayed rooted to that spot, but when he finally managed to sink down in the spot she had recently occupied on the bed, her smell was starting to fade. She was gone. And in a few hours he would be far away and unable to hurt her anymore. He hated the thought of never seeing her again, but he also knew this was exactly how it should be.

To be continued…

**Author's note #2:** Don't hate me yet! You're not allowed to hate me until that says "The End."


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note: T**his chapter refused to end, so if the cut off is a little strange it's because I had to end it somewhere. Anyway, here it is. Two or three chapters left in this one depending on how the muse feels.

* * *

Unlike most people, John McBain actually preferred Metro stations when they were packed with weekday commuters. The half deserted Saturday afternoon station felt strangely desolate. Even the train car he stepped onto was nearly empty and he stood out of habit even though there were plenty of vacant seats.

Maybe it wasn't the absence of people that bothered him, but the type of people that were there. Rather than being surrounded by mobs of suit wearing clones who all seemed as obsessed with their jobs as he was, on Saturday he found himself amidst families of tourists and locals out enjoying Washington, DC's landmarks and museums. Something about the sight of them always gave him a pang of regret.

The shrink would probably have told him it was because his own childhood had been interrupted by the bullet that killed his father. He suspected there was something more to it.

He tried to distract himself by reading the signs on the train but it wasn't much help—they were the same signs that had been there for weeks and he knew them by heart. The train stopped and he moved towards the center of the car as the doors opened to allow the boarding passengers room to maneuver.

"Alaina Buchanan, stop right there!"

The last name the woman called out distracted him plenty. It was a common enough name, but every time he heard it he thought of one woman. Of red hair and blue eyes, pool tables, rooftops and the creamy velvet of her skin. He hadn't seen her in over four years and he kept waiting to forget about her; it hadn't happened yet. Every time he went into a bar he half expected to see her behind it, every time he ate pie he tasted her lips, every pool table made him remember desperate kisses and lost opportunities.

The force of someone running into his legs brought him back to the metro car and he looked down to see a little girl with strawberry-blonde hair grinning up at him.

"Alaina!" the woman's voice called again and it suddenly occurred to him that it was in reference to this child.

And then he saw her.

She hadn't seen him yet even though she was standing two feet away—her attention was completely centered on the child. He'd hoped that if he ever ran into her again he would realize that his memory had idealized her, elevated her the way she'd once accused him of doing for Caitlyn. But it hadn't—she really was _that_ beautiful. His heart really _did_ jump at the sight of her. And he held his breath, praying she would notice him.

She knelt down so that she would be on the level to speak with the child. Her child. He knew that the baby was a girl and that Paul Cramer had turned out to be the father—Michael had told him that much. That was the last time Michael ever mentioned her name; he'd never asked and his brother never volunteered. "Alaina, baby, you can't just run off like that!" she scolded gently, "hold my hand when we're on the Metro, remember?"

The girl nodded solemnly.

"I'm so sorry," she said glancing up, "she doesn't normally-" It had taken her a moment to recognize him, but once she did, she suddenly seemed as mute as him. "John?" she finally said in a voice barely audible over the noise of the train as it lurched into motion.

"Hi Natalie," he finally managed to say.

"Wow!" she said, rising to her feet, clearly stunned, "What are you doing here?"

"Had to go in to the office and pick up some papers," he explained before realizing she probably meant to ask why he was in DC, not why he was on the train.

"Aw," she said, "working on a Saturday, why am I not surprised? I just took Alaina down to the museums."

"We saw dinosaurs!" the girl said excitedly.

"Really?" he laughed in response.

"I'm Alaina Buchanan," she declared holding out her hand to him.

He took her tiny hand in his and shook it gently. "John McBain," he said.

"Nice to meet you!" she said.

"So how long are you in town?" he asked turning back to her mother.

"Um… we live here. Well, Alexandria, actually," she smiled awkwardly. "So indefinitely, I guess."

"Really?" he said trying to process this new revelation. As if the shock of her presence on his train wasn't bad enough.

"Yourself?" she asked, toying with a strand of red hair.

"Silver Spring," he choked out.

"Small world," she laughed. Without warning she threw her arms around him, "It's so good to see you! I can't believe it!"

"Yeah," he said gingerly hugging her back.

"We should get together sometime," she said, trying to sound casual as she pulled away, "dinner or something."

"Sounds good." He knew he sounded like an idiot with his lame responses, but he couldn't come up with anything else.

The train stopped again and he heard the announcer's garbled voice. "This is my stop," he said.

"Oh," she stammered.

He rummaged in his pocket and retrieved a business card. "Give me a call," he said, "if you want to do dinner or whatever." He made his way off the train half-relieved that the awkward conversation was over and half-disappointed that he had to walk away. As the train pulled away he saw her reading the card and thought he caught the glimmer of a smile. Never able to tell the difference between people being polite and honest invitations, he'd given her an out—if she was serious about dinner she could call him, but if not she could just pretend to lose his number and with a little luck they'd never run into each other again. It was a big city.

By Monday morning she still hadn't called.

He tried to tell himself to let it go although he knew, staring at the computer screen, he was doing just the opposite. He could have done this years ago—half the guys he knew habitually ran background checks on all the girls they went out with, but he'd never resorted to it before. It was none of his business what she'd been doing the past four years. On the other hand, the mandated therapy he'd spent a year attending made him self-aware enough to realize he would obsess over this till he knew.

He typed in her name, waited a moment while the computer processed the request, then stared in disbelief at the screen.

"Didn't see _that_ coming," he mumbled under his breath.

* * *

"Hey Buchanan!" Lucy said as she walked into the lab. Natalie looked up from the microscope, grateful for a break, and turned a questioning glance to her colleague. "There's some guy out in the hall who wants to talk to you."

"Really?" Natalie said, trying to sound disinterested. She had her suspicions as to who it was, but she was trying not to let herself get too excited.

Her suspicions were more or less confirmed when Lucy leaned down and added, "And he's hot. If he's single, give him my number."

Natalie's face broke into a grin as she stepped into the hallway and came face to face with John. "Fancy meeting you here," she said innocently.

"Uh huh," he said with a wry smile, "You forgot to mention we work in the same building."

"I didn't know," she shrugged, "not until you handed me your card and by then you were getting off the train."

"You knew I worked for the FBI," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she admitted, "but last I heard you were in Philadelphia. How was I supposed to know you'd transferred down here?"

Nodding in the direction of the lab door he said, "So that forensic thing worked out for you?"

"It did," she said, "I spent a couple years working at the LPD and I really loved it. And it turns out I'm actually pretty good at it. But about a year ago I was ready for a change—kinda wanted to get away from Llanview. So I put out some feelers and Uncle Bo put me in touch with some of his contacts and… here I am."

"Here you are," he repeated, still not quite believing it.

"So how's Friday night?"

"Huh?" he asked blankly.

"You said you'd be willing to do dinner sometime," she reminded him, "but if you're busy or… Or if you're not actually interested, that's fine just please don't worry about being polite and just tell me. Because-"

"Friday sounds fine," he interjected, smiling at her nervous rambling. And at the fact that until just then he'd suspected himself it was nothing more than a polite invitation.

"Great!" she said, hating the way her voice came out unexpectedly high and squeaky. Hesitantly she added, "And if you want to bring someone… I mean if there is someone for you to bring, that's fine."

"There isn't," he assured her.

"Great!" she said again before cringing, "I mean it's not great that you don't have anyone but… I'm gonna stop talking now before you think I've completely lost my mind."

"So when and where?" he asked.

"Well if it's all right I thought you could just come to my place," she said, "Alaina and I could cook you dinner."

"Alaina cooks?"

"She'll insist on helping," she said with a smile.

"Can I bring anything?" he asked.

She shrugged. "If you want to, but really John, don't feel like you have to."

"It's no problem," he said, "Want me to bring dessert? I can't cook, but I know where a couple decent grocery stores are."

"Okay," she said with a laugh, "Seven o' clock on Friday then. Do you need directions or did you already get that from the computer?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I think I can find it."

* * *

He didn't realize how hungry he was until he knocked on the door of her apartment and smelled the aromas coming from within. There was something about the smell that was simple and unpretentious, but homey. She answered the door with a smile on her face, but a somewhat harried expression. "Hey!" she said as she stepped to the side to let him enter, "we're running a little behind, but it'll be ready in a minute."

"Smells good," he remarked. Holding forward the pastry boxes he was holding he added, "As promised, dessert."

She took the boxes and stared at them a moment, an inscrutable expression on her face. "Pie," she said distantly. Instantly he regretted his choice; he could tell by her tone she remembered that night all those years ago when they'd shared pie on the rooftop, but perhaps she was thinking more of the way the night ended. He'd selected it because frankly, he didn't know what else she liked and the earlier part of the evening was probably his fondest memory of their time together.

A little voice rescued them from the awkward moment by calling out, "Is he here?" A second later Alaina came scurrying out of the room he guessed was the kitchen; she was wearing an apron that was several sizes too big for her and nearly dragged on the floor. She stopped just in front of him and grinned up at him, "Hi!" He couldn't help smiling back; she was practically a miniature version of her mother and just like Natalie, her smile was contagious.

"Hey there," he said, "How are you?"

"Just peachy," she said, "Come on in, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

John saw Natalie cover a smile at the girl's attempt to act the grown-up hostess. "That sounds great," he said indulgently.

"Okay," she said, "we have Cool-Aid and Coke and water and… Did I forget anything, Mommy?"

"Beer," Natalie added with a knowing look towards John.

"Beer sounds great," he said.

"I'll go get you one," the little girl said eagerly dashing back to the kitchen.

"Hold on," her mother called after her, "Mommy has to open it for you." Turning to John she said, "Just a second."

She followed her daughter into the kitchen and a moment later Alaina returned gripping a bottle of beer with both hands and passed it off to John. "Have a seat!" she said again, motioning him towards a couch in the living room. He complied as she sat adjacent him on a love seat, "We're having macaroni and cheese because Mommy got stuck at work late and didn't have time to cook anything else. But I don't mind—it's my favorite. Do you like macaroni and cheese?"

"It's one of my favorites too," he told the little girl.

"Awesome!" she said, "And we're having chicken and salad, which I made. Only Mommy wouldn't let me cut up the carrots because I'm not allowed to use the sharp knives."

"Is she talking your ear off?" Natalie asked emerging from the kitchen with a stack of plates and silverware she began distributing on the table.

"I just can't believe how big she is," he marveled.

Alaina cocked her head to the side, "Do you know me?"

John didn't quite know how to answer that question, but Natalie jumped in and rescued him. "Baby girl, the last time Mr. McBain saw you, you were still in Mommy's tummy."

The girl's eyes widened and she said, "Wow! That was like forever ago!"

"Not so long for us old people," John told her. Turning to Natalie he asked, "Hey, is there anything I can help with?"

"No, you have to sit!" Alaina insisted, "You're company. You're why we're eating at the big table—most of the time we just eat in here-"

"Don't tell him that!" Natalie scolded playfully, "let him think we're a little bit respectable."

"Hey, I'm impressed you _own _a table," he said with a laugh.

After dinner they sat in the living room talking until Alaina, nestled up against her mother, began to doze off. "All right, sweetie," she said caressing her daughter's hair, "I think it's about time to get you to bed."

"I'm not sleepy," she murmured.

"Of course you're not," her mother teased, "your eyelids just got very heavy all of a sudden."

"Uh huh," she said snuggling tighter against her mother.

"Well it's past your bedtime anyway," Natalie said in a tone that was gentle but firm, "so go put your pjs on and I'll be right in."

Drowsily the little girl sat up then her eyes opened wide as an idea occurred to her, "Mommy! Can Mr. McBain come tomorrow morning?"

She flashed a nervous look at John then said, "Baby, he probably has more important things to do."

Looking absolutely scandalized Alaina asked, "What's more important than pancakes?"

"That's a very good question," John said, managing not to sound patronizing.

"And tomorrow's pancake Saturday!" she said.

"Is it?" he said, "I didn't realize."

"Every Saturday is pancake Saturday here," Natalie explained.

"We used to have company for pancake Saturday all the time," Alaina continued, "Uncle Rex and Uncle Bo and grandma and… well lots of people. But since we moved here no one ever comes anymore."

"Okay, well we'll see," Natalie said before John had a chance to answer for himself, "now go get changed or there won't be pancakes at all."

Obediently, Alaina scurried down the hallway and her mother turned nervously to John. "The way she's been running around today I don't think it'll take me long to get her down," she said, "if you want to wait… I mean, I understand if you want to leave, but-"

"I can wait," he assured her with a smile.

"Okay," she said, blushing slightly as she followed her daughter down the hall.

Left alone, John took a moment to look around the apartment. It was tasteful, but very casual and comfortable—the kind of place where it seemed okay to put your feet on the coffee table. Pictures of her family hung on the walls and sat on most every flat surface. He was surprised to see several of Natalie with Jessica, the affection between the sisters was obvious. Apparently she had reconciled with her twin and he was happy for her.

He was standing in front of one of the pictures staring at it when she returned. "Out like a light," she said flopping down on the loveseat, "she was so excited about you coming over tonight she wore herself out. I think she's been lonely since we moved down here. She was so used to having so much family around and here it's just the two of us."

"So you don't get a lot of company?" he asked, well aware it wasn't his business.

"Mom came down for a couple weeks right after Christmas," she said, "and Rex came one weekend, but aside from that… Haven't had much time for meeting people around here."

He nodded and indicated the picture that had captured his interest. "Is that…?"

"Your brother's wedding?" she supplied standing up and walking over towards him, "Yes."

"I_did_ try to get back for it," he said, "I was stuck on a case."

"Uh huh," she said skeptically.

"Who's the guy?" he asked pointing to the man with his arm around her in the photo.

"Marcie's brother," she said, "He was one of the groomsman and really needed an escort so…"

"So the two of you weren't…"

She shook her head. "We went out once or twice. He's a really nice guy he's just… a bit of a tool." He laughed, scolding himself for the childish glee he felt at discovering she wasn't attached to the brawny man. Her expression grew serious and she said, "If he didn't tell you already, you should know that Michael and I went out a couple times too."

"No, he didn't tell me," he said, feeling a pang of jealousy even though he knew his brother was happily married.

"It was right after everything that happened with Marcie's agent and all those murders," she explained, "She was pretty messed up and she pushed Michael away and he and I… Like I said it was maybe twice and nothing really happened. I think we both realized our hearts were elsewhere. I'm really happy they found their way back to each other."

He didn't ask who her heart was with because he didn't dare hope that it could be him. Lingering feelings for Cristian perhaps? With one parting glance towards the picture, Natalie walked back to the couch and sat down. "So what was this case you were working on that was so important you had to skip your brother's wedding?"

He walked over and sat down next to her. "My father's murder," he explained.

Her expression sobered instantly, "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I remember Michael mentioning something about the guy being caught, but I didn't realize you did it. I guess that must feel pretty good."

"Yeah," he nodded, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees, "my shrink would tell you I needed to do this to get closure. I would say it was more to get justice, but-"

"I'm sorry," she interjected, "I don't mean to pry but did you just say shrink?"

He turned his head to the side so he could look her in the eyes and nodded. "Mandated counseling."

She raised an eyebrow, "What did you do to get stuck with that?"

"Beat up a suspect."

She laughed, "John, you remember I've heard that line before, right?"

Smiling back he said, "I know, but this time it's not a cover. I still maintain the guy deserved it, but it turns out we're not allowed to operate that way."

"So I hear," she said, "so maybe that explains it."

"Explains what?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly shaking her head, "Just… you're different. I can't quite put my finger on it but you seem… I don't know, freer somehow."

"Maybe," he said, "you seem… happy."

"Yeah," she said sounding surprised by it herself, "I made some positive changes myself, I think. Gave up getting drunk and hooking up with sketch guys for one thing. Well, pretty much gave up hooking up with guys all together, but that was less of a choice and more of a… Apparently, I haven't given up babbling when I get nervous."

"Why are you nervous?" he asked.

Instead of answering she jumped up, "I'm going to get some more pie. Do you want some?"

"Um… sure," he said, confused by her sudden change in behavior.

She returned with two plates and the rest of the pie. "By the way," she said as she served them both, "about tomorrow, don't feel like you have to come. I'll explain it to Alaina."

"I don't have anything to do," he said, "unless you don't want me to come. I don't want to intrude."

"Oh, no," she said, "you're completely welcome to come, I just… I don't want you to feel pressured."

He shrugged. "Sometimes I think a little pressure is good for me."

She pretended to look shocked, "Wow. That shrink really _has _gotten to you."

He smiled slightly and watched as she attempted to appear very absorbed in her pie. "You still eat your pie the same way," he noted as she picked off the crust first.

She blushed. "Yeah… get all the junk out of the way so you can get on to the good part."

"Good philosophy," he said.

"Okay," she said taking a deep breath, "in the spirit of that… John, when you left, I really wanted to follow you. But you made it pretty clear you didn't want me to and... Not that I'm known for doing what I'm told, but I let my mom convince me that it wasn't a good idea and that if it was meant to be you'd come back to me. But you didn't. And I've tried dating other guys, but every time I'd catch myself comparing them to you and they always came up short. No matter how much I tried to tell myself that you weren't a possibility and I needed to just get over it, I couldn't. But I had given up hope of you ever coming back to me. And then last week, out of the blue, you did. But I don't know what that means for me or for you and… And I'm babbling on like an idiot again, so feel free to jump in any time here and-"

Knowing he'd never get a word in edgewise, he stopped her the only way he could think of, by gently circling his hand around her head and pulling her lips to his own. She was stiff with shock for a moment but quickly gave in to the kiss. Her lips parted eagerly at the pressure of his tongue as her hands gripped at his hair. She tasted just as he remembered; she tasted like that night under the stars, the lingering flavor of cherry pie in her mouth strangely intoxicating.

She broke the kiss suddenly and squealed as her plate slipped from her lap and crashed wrong side up on the floor. "Crap!" she said jumping up, "What is it about you and me and pie that never ends well?" As she hurried to the kitchen presumably for cleaning supplies he sat on the couch feeling useless and pondering the same question.

To be continued…


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's note: **I think this chapter was a little out of my element—it involves cute children, mushy stuff, kissy stuff… things I don't really write so well. I had to throw in one last splash of angst to make myself feel better, but it's a relatively small one. I'm not thrilled with this chapter, but I'm thrilled to be just about done with this thing—one chapter left. Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback.

* * *

She returned with paper towels and a bottle of spray cleaner and dropped down in front of the mess, avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry," he stammered picking the plate up as she scrubbed the stickiness off the hard wood.

"Don't be," she mumbled.

"You know…" he said slowly as she scrubbed, almost angrily at the floor, "we never really talked about that night."

"Probably better that way," she said, pretending to be completely absorbed in her task.

"I don't think so," he said, "because I think somehow you've gotten the impression that I didn't want to make love to you that night."

"Gee," she said looking up at him for the first time, resentment clear on her face, "how could I have ever gotten that impression?"

"Look I can see why you would think that," he said, "but it's not true. I wanted to. You have no idea how much I wanted to. But when I looked at you all I could see was you with a bullet wound in your chest, covered in blood. I was convinced if I let you get that close that somehow you would wind up getting killed."

"That's crazy, John," she said, turning back to the mess on the floor.

"Yeah, the shrink said the same thing," he nodded, "According to him, I don't actually have the power to control stray bullets."

"You talked to your shrink about me?" she asked, looking up at him again.

He met her eyes, looking for some way to assuage the fear he saw there. Gently he reached down and took the paper towel and cleaner out of her hand and set them on the coffee table, "You've been on my mind a lot. You know, when we met I had this wall built around myself and no one else ever came close to getting through it. You _did_. And that drove me crazy and it pissed me off. So I kept pushing you away because I knew if you got close, you'd get _too_ close. I thought when I left it would get better—I don't think I believed I would forget about you, but maybe I could get you out of my mind a little. But I couldn't. I kept obsessing over you, because that's what I do, but I couldn't go back. I couldn't even let myself ask about you because I didn't deserve to know. You were a second chance I wasn't ever supposed to get. And then your daughter runs into me on the Metro and… I don't know… it almost made me start to hope. And I know I don't have any right to ask for a second chance, but-"

"You don't have to ask," she interjected. He looked silently into her eyes, not daring to hope she meant what he could almost let himself think she meant. "You don't have to ask for a second chance," she said again, "if you want it, you've got it. I just hope you know what to do with it."

"Well I think at the very least I can do better than last time," he said, inching his face closer to hers.

"You're going to have to do _a lot_ better," she warned, rising up on her knees.

"How's this for a start?" he asked leaning down and taking her mouth with his own.

"That's a pretty good start," she murmured against his lips.

He put his hands on the sides of her face and deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth as the heat between them grew faster than he would have expected. Five years of unfulfilled longing had apparently only intensified the desire and electricity between them. Natalie rose up higher on her knees as she kissed him back, the pressure of her lips on his almost desperate as her tongue plunged into his mouth.

Sliding his hands from her head, down her sides to her waist he pulled her up until she was on his lap straddling him. Natalie ground her lower body against his, needing more contact. Needing to feel every inch of his body against hers. This was nothing like she remembered; on the few occasions that he'd let go enough to kiss her before he was always holding back. She hadn't even been sure of that then, but to feel the way his mouth made love to hers, his hands on her back crushing her chest against his own…

She felt him twist their bodies and ease her down so that she was flat on her back on the couch, his weight pushing her into the soft cushions. Finally his mouth released hers, but only to trail a line of kisses down her throat and then latch on to her clavicle while she fought desperately for air. He used one of his knees to part her legs and the momentary friction of his knee against the apex of her legs made her moan.

Eager to share with him some of the bliss she was feeling, she brought her hand down and squeezed at the very obvious evidence of his desire for her. Smiling at the growl that elicited from him she braided her legs with his, clutching tightly, trying to hold their bodies even closer. She gasped when his hands found her breasts and began squeezing them, teasing her nipples through the cloth that separated their skin.

Her mind was spinning, out of control like her body, desperate for some thought to grasp onto. Struggling to remember that anything in the world existed except for John's kisses, his hands playing her body, the ache deep inside the place that most longed for his touch. When suddenly, just as she reached for the zipper of his pants, her brain did find another thought to latch onto…

"John," she gasped, "John, stop."

He pulled back immediately transferring his weight to his own legs. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she assured him, raising herself up on her elbows, "No, you didn't, I- Damn I can't believe I'm the one stopping this, but-"

Brushing her face lightly he said, "I don't want to pressure you."

"You're not," she said as they both shifted into more comfortable positions, "not into anything I don't want. Believe me. I really, really want this."

"But…?"

"But I can't," she said, surprised to feel tears pricking at her eyes, "We can't. Not now, not like this… Not with my daughter down the hall."

"It's okay," he said squeezing her hand, even though his body was still aching desperately for hers.

"I used to dive head first into everything without looking," she said, "I used to operate on emotion and instinct alone, but I can't do that anymore. I have to think it through. Because I'm not the only one involved anymore and I just think that this is a little too…"

"It's too fast, I understand," he said, "it took us five years to get to this point, we don't have to do everything tonight."

She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed it. "You know, you being so understanding about this only makes me want you more."

"Good," he said leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on her lips, "We still on for pancakes tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she said smiling shyly, "Come around 10:00."

"I'll see you then," he said with a final kiss as he made his way to the door.

She rose and followed him. "Drive safe," she said, "Thank you, John… For the pie and everything else."

"Anytime," he said with a grin as she shut the door behind him.

* * *

When Natalie's door swung open the next morning he was greeted not only with enticing smells of pancakes, bacon, and sausage, but also by a quick kiss on the lips. "Good morning," she said with a smile, "come on in."

"Thanks for the invite," he said walking into the apartment.

"Thanks for coming," she said leading him into the kitchen.

Alaina stood on a step-stool by the stove covered from head to toe in pancake batter. Seeing him, she grinned and said, "Hi, Mr. McBain! I'm helping Mommy make the pancakes!"

"I see that," he said, trying to sound impressed.

"I'm only allowed to pour that batter because I can't touch anything that might be hot," she explained holding up the pitcher of batter.

"I think she's mostly pouring it all over herself," Natalie said walking to the stove to check the pancakes that were currently on the griddle.

"I think they're ready to be flipped," Alaina said seriously.

"I think you're right," her mother said flipping them before turning to John, "We're almost ready."

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked, unaccustomed to the feeling of helplessness standing in a kitchen gave him.

"You want to check the bacon cooker in the microwave and see if it's ready?" she asked nodding in the direction of the microwave.

"Bacon cooker?" he repeated.

"Yeah," she said, "you know it cooks it faster and drains the fat."

"I thought the fat was the point of bacon," he mumbled as he opened the microwave.

"I heard that," she said in a mock-stern tone as she removed the batch of pancakes from the griddle. As Alaina poured the remaining batter in pools on the hot surface, Natalie added, "This is the last batch if you two want to get the table all set."

"Come on," Alaina said motioning to him as she hopped down from the stool. She directed him patiently about where plates and glasses and silverware were stored and they had the table set by the time Natalie emerged from the kitchen with a heaping plate of pancakes.

As hungry as he was John found himself unable to eat, transfixed by the sight of Natalie helping Alaina fix her plate. It was the sort of scene totally absent in his life, and nothing he'd ever missed until that moment. But something about it felt so comfortable, so right…

"Don't let it touch!" the little girl said desperately as her mother poured a small pool of syrup on her plate.

"I know," her mother said patiently making sure the syrup got nowhere near the pancake she'd just cut up.

While Natalie settle into her seat across the table John gave Alaina a sideways glance and asked, "Isn't it going to have to touch eventually?"

"No," she replied in a totally exasperated tone.

"Coffee?" Natalie asked ducking back just inside the kitchen to the coffee pot.

"Sure," he said.

"Black, right?" she asked before he could specify.

"Yeah," he said, touched that she remembered.

"How did you know me back when I was still in Mommy's tummy?" Alaina asked happily eating her non-syrup contaminated pancake, "Did you used to live in Llanview like us?"

"Sort of," he said, not sure how much detail she'd understand, "Only for a little while."

"And how come you knew Mommy?"

"Well," he said fumbling for a way to explain this to a child, "you mom helped me out with something for work."

"Oh," she said, "Mommy works at the FBI, she helps catch bad guys."

"I know," he said, "I actually sort of work with your mom."

"Really?" she asked, "my Uncle Bo catches bad guys too. And my Uncle Rex."

"Rex?" he asked shooting a questioning glance at Natalie as she sat down, "Rex is a cop?"

"PI," she explained, "He thought about the Police Academy, but he's not so good at following the rules and I'm not sure they'd have taken him with his record. But he's doing pretty good in his own business."

"Good for him," he said, "How's the rest of your family?"

"Pretty good I guess," she said, "Kevin married Kelly again and they moved to England. My dad actually moved back to Llanview—that was pretty exciting. Jessica's married, she has a little girl who's two."

"How are things between the two of you," he asked gently.

"Better," she said with a smile, "a lot better. It took some time, you know, but I think we pretty much worked past everything. I think it helps, us both being mothers."

"Good," he said, genuinely happy for Natalie that she had her family back. His eyes wandered over to Alaina who was dipping pieces of sausage in the syrup on her plate. Leaning towards her he said, "You know you just turned hundreds of years of pancake eating on its head?"

"How?" she giggled.

"You just ate that whole pancake completely dry and then put syrup on your sausage," he said. She laughed, looking quite pleased with herself. "You're as bad as your mother eating her pie all backwards."

"We're just creative, McBain," Natalie said.

"I know that from experience," he said looking sideways at her, "trust me."

They chatted easily through the rest of breakfast and lingered at the table for a long time after Alaina had gone to play in her room. It was late afternoon before John finally ran out of excuses to stay and made his way to the door. "Thanks for the pancakes," he said, "my body doesn't know what to do—two home cooked meals in a week."

"Well thanks for coming," she said, "I know it's not very exciting hanging out with a four year old and her flour covered mother."

"I've done exciting," he said with a shrug, "believe me this is better. Besides, she still looks pretty covered in flour."

She giggled self-consciously. Leaning closer he asked, "When can I see you again?"

She thought for a moment. "I have errands and stuff around the house I need to catch up on tomorrow. Maybe Monday. Think you could meet for lunch?"

"Sounds great," he said, "I'll see you then." Stepping out into the hallway he paused just long enough to kiss her deeply—after all the kiss was going to have to last him two days.

"See you then," she echoed breathlessly as he walked away.

Walking back into the apartment Natalie was intercepted by Alaina who came bounding out of her room. "I'm gonna be a detective just like Uncle Rex when I grow up!"

"Really?" Natalie said, laughing at the child's sudden revelation. It wasn't really out of the ordinary, it seemed like every other day she had a new career in mind.

"I already figured out my first mystery," she said excitedly.

"What's that?" Natalie asked.

"Mr. McBain, I figured out who he is," she said.

"What are you talking about, baby?" her mother asked.

"Mr. McBain… he's my dad, isn't he?"

* * *

John looked anxiously around his apartment—until that night he couldn't remember the last time he'd cleaned it. It wasn't often he hosted women or young children there—heck, it wasn't often he hosted anyone at his place. He'd never cared much about furnishing or décor; as long as he had a bed to sleep in, a couch to sit on, and a TV to watch he was content. Suddenly he felt self-conscious about the bare walls, the sparse, mismatched furniture—it was the antithesis of Natalie's apartment, what was she going to think?

The knock on the door reminded him that it was too late to do anything about any of that anyway. His breath caught in his throat as soon as he saw her; she was wearing a deep blue v-neck top that showed just enough of her cleavage to make him want more. Her black skirt draped deftly over her hips without hiding too much of her perfectly shaped legs. He was so entranced with the sight of her that it took him a moment to realize she was alone.

"Hi," she said in a sultry tone kissing him lightly on the lips before sliding by him into the apartment.

"Hey there," he said, finding his voice, "where's Alaina?"

"Her nanny said she could stay overnight," she explained.

She didn't seem to find this particularly significant, he frowned. This was the third time over the past two weeks that he'd extended an invitation to Natalie and her daughter and she'd found an excuse to come alone. Had he somehow made her feel her child's presence was unwanted? He knew from watching his mother how difficult it could be for a single mother to date—a lot of guys didn't want to be saddled with an instant family. But he didn't mind and he hoped he hadn't somehow given the impression he did.

"So… what's for dinner?" she asked glancing around the apartment and noting the lack of any sign food was being prepared.

"Um… whatever you want," he said sheepishly, "as long as it can be ordered take out. I'm not really much of a cook."

She laughed softly, "Why am I not surprised?"

"I have a nice selection of menus though," he said picking them up off the coffee table.

"I'm impressed," she teased flipping through them.

He waited a moment to broach the matter that had been bothering him since her arrival. "You know you didn't have to leave Alaina at home, right?" he asked.

"I know," she said glancing up at him only for a fraction of a second. She was avoiding eye contact—something was bothering her too.

"It's just that you left her at home the last two times too," he said, "I haven't seen her since that Saturday when I came over for breakfast."

"I'm sorry," she said defensively, "am I not enough company for you?"

"That's not what I'm getting at," he said, "I was just wondering if I somehow gave you the impression that I didn't want her around."

She slammed the menus back on the table. "John, when the pretty single mom says she found an overnight babysitter it's code for offering to spend her night with you. The appropriate response is to act grateful and turned on."

"Believe me when I tell you that I am both grateful and turned on," he said closing the space between them, "but if I've done something to make you think that-"

"You haven't," she snapped.

If he hadn't been sure that there was more to all of this than she was saying before, her defensive attitude settled it. He paused for a moment, hoping to give her the opportunity to calm down a bit before he said, "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"It's not that I think you don't want her around," she said, her jaw quivering slightly, "it's that I'm not sure I want you around her."

To be continued…


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimers: **Not my characters, just my reality.

**Author's note:** It's over. Done. Completo. Finito. Finally! I know you're all just gonna giggle at this, but please, if I EVER get the urge to write something this long, STOP ME! I'm kind of sad to see it end though. I didn't hate it by the end like I usually do with my fics. I'm very anxious about the act of ending it—after investing so much in it I hate to have a crap ending. And I suck at writing endings. But here it is. I can't thank you all enough for the encouraging feedback and heck, just for reading this much (more than 100,000 words) of something I wrote. I don't know if I could have written it without your support. It's been fun.

* * *

John blinked, not sure he had heard her correctly, even less sure how to respond. Finally he sank down on the couch and simply said, "Wow."

He could tell she regretted saying it, but somehow he was certain she meant it. She stayed rooted to the place where she stood and fumbled for words, "I'm sorry, John, I-"

"Were you ever going to tell me or were you just going to keep making excuses?" he asked.

"I was hoping you wouldn't make such a big deal about it," she said.

"Well I think it _is_ a big deal," he said, "your daughter's very important to you, I've seen that, and if you don't want me around her, I'm pretty sure that eliminates us having any kind of a future."

"We don't even know if we _have _a future yet," she protested.

"You seem to have decided already that we don't!"

"Look John," she said, her eyes flashing, "the last couple weeks have been incredible, and things have been going well between us, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten how things ended last time. That you let me in just a little bit and then left town just as I was really starting to get my hopes up."

"I'm sorry about what I did back then," he said meeting her eyes, "I've told you that. But I'm not the one doing the shutting out this time."

"Do you want to know why I can't let you be around her?" she exploded.

"Yeah," he said, "I would love to hear this."

"You remember that Saturday, when you came over for pancakes?" she asked; he nodded. She took a shaky breath and he could hear tears in her voice as she said, "After you left, she asked me if you were her father."

The hurt John had felt at hearing she didn't want him near her daughter softened; he knew he couldn't begin to imagine the emotions such a question would provoke in her. He stood up just long enough to take her hand and tug her over to the couch beside him. "How much does she know about him?" he asked.

Looking down at her hands she said, "She doesn't really know anything about Paul except that he's the reason she's related to the Cramer's. Dorian even decided she qualified as a 'Cramer Girl' and I have to tell you, getting her away from that family was one of the better parts of leaving Llanview. I tell her that her father's in heaven. I'm not really sure that's true, but I thought it got the point across well enough for a four year-old. I needed for her to know that her father hadn't made a choice to leave her so she didn't think it was her fault in any way."

"I thought about how hard it must be for you to raise her alone," he said, "but I never thought about the fact that you also had to deal with Cramer being her father."

"It sucked," she admitted, "and I knew someday she's start asking the hard questions, I just hoped I had a couple more years. That for now I could be enough for her."

"You are," he said squeezing her hand, "you've done a great job with her. She's happy and well adjusted-"

"But that doesn't mean she isn't looking for her father," she said, "and somehow she took what we said about you knowing me before in Llanview and knowing her when she was still inside of me and decided that you must be him."

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"It's not your fault," she said, "but you should have seen the look on her face when I told her you weren't. She was so disappointed. I can't do that to her again, I can't keep disappointing her."

"What if you don't have to? What if-" he was surprised himself at what he was about to say, "what if I _could_ be her father?"

She shook her head emphatically. "You had a chance to be her father back then and you made it very clear you weren't interested."

"I _couldn't_ be her father back then," he said, "I wasn't in a position legally or biologically-"

"And the fact that you think children are about biology and legal statutes is exactly why I don't want you around mine," she said.

"I know that's not what's most important," he said, "but I couldn't ignore it. Besides, I'm not the same person I was then. You said yourself, I've changed."

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for that?" she asked.

"Weren't you the one who told me five years ago that sometimes you just have to jump?"

"Yeah," she said, "and you were the person who told me that if you only had yourself to worry about you could. John, I'm willing to jump, but you're asking me to throw my baby off a cliff and hope the parachute works. I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

He was quiet for a moment wondering if there was any room to argue this point further. Finally he asked, "So what does this mean for us?"

"You tell me," she said as a tear slipped down her cheek, "this is all I can give you right now. I'm not saying forever, but for tonight… Can't I be enough for right now? Can't we just have tonight? Can't it just be about you and me and finally being together?"

He sighed. This wasn't what he wanted, but it might be all he could get. And after the way he'd repeatedly pushed her away before, he couldn't blame her for setting conditions and ground rules. "Yeah," he said bringing her hand to her lips, "I think you're right, we should enjoy tonight. Let tonight just be about us—we can worry about everything else later."

* * *

In the early hours of the morning Natalie lay with her head on John's chest, one of his arms holding her gently against him. She'd dreamt about this a hundred times—making love to him and lying in his arms afterwards. The reality had far exceeded her most provocative fantasies. She couldn't remember any lover before making her body sing quite the way he did; no one else had devoted themselves quite so passionately to pleasuring her. And she'd never felt so safe and loved when any of them had held her.

So why was she holding back?

Absent-mindedly she slid one hand over his chest, over the contours that were at once so new and so familiar. She stopped when her fingers grazed a patch of skin that didn't feel like the rest—it was smoother but puckered strangely in places.

"It's a scar," he said quietly.

She looked up at him sheepishly, "I didn't know you were awake."

Smiling down at her drowsily he said, "Something about a beautiful woman running her hands over my chest tends to wake me up."

"Sorry," she said kissing the warm skin.

"Don't be," he said as his hand caressed her hip gently, "it's a nice way to wake up."

"It's a bullet wound, isn't it?" she asked, fingering the scar.

"Yeah," he said distantly, "When Haver shot me. When Caitlyn…"

"If you don't want to talk about it…" she said.

Instead of replying he let his hand wander from her hip up to the scar on her chest. He knew from memory exactly where it was, he'd been there when she'd been shot and he'd thought he was going to lose her the same way he lost Caitlyn. As his fingers centered on the puckered flesh there she laughed softly. "We're some pair, huh? His and her gunshot scars."

"They _do_ fade over time," he told her.

She didn't say anything but snuggled tighter against him. He joined in the silence, just allowing himself to enjoy her warmth against himself, reveling in the strange absence of anxiety he felt. Why was it that after all those months of dodging out of her reach that lying with her in his bed felt so natural?

After a few minutes he asked softly, "You still awake?"

"Yeah," she said.

"I need to tell you something," he said.

He felt her body tense slightly as she said, "Okay."

"You remember five years ago, I told you that in another time or another place I thought I might fall in love with you?"

"Uh huh," she said in a voice full of trepidation.

"Well it _is_ another time and another place," he said, "and I think I might have fallen in love with you. I just thought you should know that."

She turned and pressed up slightly on her elbows so she could look at him more comfortably. "You remember what I said to you that night?"

"I think you said that if your heart hadn't already been destroyed you'd consider giving it to me," he said.

She nodded. "I finally put it back together. It took me a long time, but I did it. And I don't know if I could survive it getting shattered again."

"Then I'll have to make sure not to let that happen," he said.

"No guarantees," she said, "you taught me that."

Fingering the ends of her hair gently he said, "I wouldn't put a whole lot of stock in anything I said back then. I was in desperate need of therapy, remember?"

She smiled slightly then caught sight of the clock. 5:21. "I don't want you to think I'm running out on this conversation," she said, "but I need to get going. I want to be home before Alaina wakes up."

"I understand," he said although his missed her warmth as soon as she lifted herself from the bed.

"By the way," she said leaning down and kissing him once more, "in case I forgot to tell you, last night was amazing. You really know how to show a girl a good time, McBain."

"Well maybe we can do this again soon," he said.

"Definitely," she said smiling back at him.

When she was gone he lay there, shivering slightly as though in leaving she had taken the heat from the room with her. He hated that she had to go; he wanted to spend the rest of the morning holding her. He wanted to make breakfast for her. And spend the day on nestled on the couch with her watching her daughter play. He didn't want to push her, but he asked himself, if this was all she ever felt comfortable giving him, would that be enough for him?

He didn't have to think long about the answer, he knew it never would be. Spending one night with her had only intensified his longing for her. He doubted he would ever be content until she was spending every night, and every morning in his arms.

* * *

The next afternoon Natalie was in the midst of the decidedly unglamorous task of cleaning the bathroom when she heard a knock at the door. She shed the rubber gloves she'd been wearing as she made her way to the door. Peering through the peephole she was shocked to see John standing there. "John?" she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I have a present for you," he said pushing past her into the apartment.

"And it couldn't have waited until tomorrow at work?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It really couldn't wait another second."

"Mr. McBain!" Alaina squealed running into the room, "I didn't know you were coming!"

"It was a surprise," he said dropping down to her level, "and I really wish you'd call me John, Mr. McBain makes me feel old."

The little girl giggled, "Okay."

"Alaina, why don't you go play in your room for a little bit," Natalie said in an icy voice.

She turned a pout to her mother and said, "But I want to-"

"Alaina," she repeated. She didn't raise her voice, but it was evidently a tone and expression that her daughter knew better than to argue with because she marched immediately to her room.

Once she heard the door close and was reasonably certain Alaina was out of earshot she turned back to John, anger flashing in her eyes. "Did you not hear any of our conversation last night?"

"I did," he nodded, "I heard it and I thought about it. I actually spent all morning thinking about it."

"And you just decided to ignore it?" she asked.

"No," he said, "I decided to fix it."

"And how are you planning to do that?" she asked wearily.

"You're not sure you can trust me. And I understand why," he said, handing her an envelope, "That's why I got these for us."

She looked at it dubiously and opened it; slowly she pulled out two thin slips of paper. She paused a moment, reading the tickets and not quite believing what she saw. "Skydiving tickets?" she asked looking up at him. He nodded. "But you're afraid-"

"Of jumping," he finished for her. "Most people call it fear of heights and shrinks will tell you it's fear of falling, but a wise, beautiful, passionate woman once told me it's really just the fear of jumping. And I'm not going to lie to you and tell you I'm not afraid, but they say you have to face your fears, and I'm willing to do that."

Natalie shook her head and he could see tears pooling in her eyes. "John, I-"

He cut her off by placing a finger over her lips. "Let me finish. I thought about what you said, and how you're not ready to take a leap, particularly where Alaina's concerned. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that what it comes down to is you're afraid I won't take the leap with you. But I will. And I'm ready to do what ever it takes to prove that to you."

She stared into his eyes for a moment, her lip trembling, then wordlessly walked over and sat down on the couch. "I don't know, John," she said running a hand through her hair.

"Let me tell you what I know," he said kneeling in front of her, "I know that five years in another state weren't enough to make me forget you. I know that I can't remember the last night I slept without nightmares until the night I spent with you-"

"We didn't sleep that much," she sniffed.

"No we didn't," he admitted with a smile, "and I know that the only part about that night that I regret was you leaving in the morning. And I know when I come here and I spend time with you and Alaina it feels so right. And I can see a future I never thought I was going to have. She's an amazing little girl, Natalie, and I think part of me maybe fell in love with her too, before she was even born. And I would jump out of an airplane without a parachute before I did anything to hurt her. Or her mother."

She was silent again but she leaned forward, letting her head rest against his. After a moment she pulled back and fumbled with the tickets. "I hope these are refundable," she said through her tears.

"Natalie?"

She bit her lip and smiled slightly. "I love you John, but even I'm not crazy enough to jump out of a plane with anyone."

"You love me?" he repeated.

She placed a light kiss on his lips and laughed. "I think you had me at 'It would seriously hurt your tip if I had to arrest you.'"

He laughed too with joy and surprise as he pulled her lips back to his and kissed her deeply. "So we give this a try?" he asked breathlessly when they parted, "For real, full out."

"No more holding back," she promised.

"Then how 'bout you let me take my ladies out to dinner?"

"Yes!" a voice called from the hallway. They both looked up in surprise as Alaina came bouncing giddily towards them.

"Alaina Buchanan!" Natalie said, "Were you eavesdropping?"

"No, I was just listening," she said innocently, "Please, can we go? I like John and he never comes over anymore and-"

"Well that might be changing," Natalie said, "but I don't know about tonight. I have to finish cleaning and I'm a mess…"

"I think you look pretty cute," John said receiving a playful swat from Natalie for his compliment. "Seriously," he added, "finish up what you need to and get changed, we'll wait, right?"

"Right," Alaina nodded earnestly, "me and John can just hang out till you're done."

Natalie sighed knowing she'd never defeat a united front like this. "Fine," she said standing up, "I'll try to be fast. You two be good."

"Always," John promised.

"Always," Alaina echoed. When Natalie had left the room, she leaned forward conspiratorially and asked, "So you like my mom?"

"Actually," John told her honestly, "I love your mom."

She smiled, "She likes you too. I can tell."

"That's good to hear," he smiled, disarmed by the precocious child's earnestness.

"You know," she said slowly, "my real dad's in heaven."

"I know," he said.

"But I might be willing to consider you for the job," she said solemnly, "as long as you play your cards right."

"I appreciate that," he said, feeling his eyes tear up, "I promise I'll do my best."

Listening from the next room, Natalie wiped a tear from her eye as well. It seemed like a long time since she'd believed in that kind of love, in that kind of life and future. Funny how just when you give up on your dreams they come and find you. She peeked into the living room and let herself watch them for a moment. The dark-haired man, normally so solemn, but surprisingly at ease with the vivacious little red-haired girl beside him. Maybe there was such a thing as happy endings after all.

Fin.


End file.
